“A somber film that is made for our times, but not for most of our audiences.”

When Gustavo Stroessner took power in Paraguay in 1954 in a coup d’état, the initial reaction among the people of South America’s only landlocked country, sandwiched in between regional powers Brazil and Argentina, was a positive one. This enthusiasm quickly vanished when it became clear that Stroessner didn’t intend to relinquish power, but instead drew more control to himself, with the help of his affiliated political party (Colorado). He installed himself as a dictator and he would rule for nearly 35 years, one of the longest periods of authoritarian rule in modern history. While there is much written about the time period, very little audiovisual material is available. Director Juanjo Pereira and his team scoured both national and international archives, and with the material they collected created a collage of imagery that paints a picture of Stroessner and the iron fist with which he ruled. Snippets of news reports, interviews, declassified documents, and state propaganda form a time capsule of over three decades of authoritarianism that has a large historical merit and in our current era is perhaps a stark reminder of the path a country can go down when one man draws all power to him. As a cinematic endeavor Under the Flags, the Sun is a tougher nut to crack for all but those who have an interest in South American politics, partly due to the haphazard editing, but underneath there is a narrative through line that should put many outside Paraguay to shame.

Pereira’s film loosely follows the rise, rule, and fall of Stroessner, although it doesn’t always adhere to chronology and has a tendency to switch subject matter at a whim, leading to a fragmented film that goes all over the place. Perhaps intended, perhaps a result of a lack of material, but it makes the viewing experience a jumbled and restless one. One moment Pereira shows us newsreels about the construction of a hydroelectric power dam, the next we are listening to the harrowing story of a political opponent being horrendously tortured. An interesting segment about Stroessner harboring infamous Nazi doctor Josef Mengele, among other former war criminals, is cut short; under Stroessner, Paraguay became somewhat of a Nazi safe haven, not too surprising given his own affinities with Nazism and perhaps a remnant of his German heritage. Paraguay’s dictatorship became internationally known as a ‘poor man’s Nazi regime.’ One wishes Pereira had delved deeper into this, or the ruthless oppression of any form of opposition, but Under the Flags, the Sun becomes a scattershot collection of stories that on first glance form a somewhat superficial image of Stroessner’s dictatorship. What kept him in power for so long is only revealed if we try to form a narrative through line from the fragments we’re given.

One aspect that accomplishes this is the way the film shows how Stroessner was treated by the world outside Paraguay, in particular the Western world. Even when the evidence of his crimes against the Paraguayan people, at least those who opposed him, was piling up, the world still received him with open arms. That this happened in neighboring countries was at the time perhaps no surprise; seeing Stroessner chumming it up with Argentina’s fellow dictator Jorge Videla doesn’t raise any eyebrows, and the aforementioned Itaipú Dam, a project shared between Paraguay and Brazil, is celebrated in the latter country even if it destroyed the lives of many farmers in the former. His trips to the US and across the Atlantic show him being received with the highest honors too, although a trip to the small Bavarian town his family hails from draws protests from the likes of Amnesty International. The image is clear: the so-called ‘free’ first world is willing to look the other way if they can profit off it. The last moving images of Stroessner, taking a stroll through the heavily guarded garden of his Brazilian mansion after having fled from Paraguay in 1989, show that useful dictators will always have friends. Stroessner was never indicted for his crimes and died in exile, but free, in Brazil in 2006.

Even though it jumps around in time somewhat, the film acquires a more sinister undertone as it plays out. One factor that contributes a lot to this is Julián Galay’s eerie sound design. Buzzing flies, wind and thunder, a crackling sound akin to an old LP being played. The effect is unnerving, as if to remind us of the monster we are watching even when the images are fairly neutral, even uplifting at times. The juxtaposition of these itchy sounds with the propagandistic songs sung from time to time is jarring, and in a good way. Various shades of deep red are scattered throughout the film, a reference to Stroessner’s Colorado Party; another jarring effect, as the color is usually associated with socialism and leftism, which Stroessner and his party most certainly weren’t. The communist opposition party were systematically oppressed, and increasingly through violence.

What with the current turmoil that Western politics finds itself in, Under the Flags, the Sun is an important film in its own right to underline the dangers of authoritarian strongmen. Its form will limit the audience though, partly due to the filmmaking choices being bold, partly to them being iffy. The scattershot nature of the film may hamper its acceptance, even if it has a lot to say without using words, just history. The final image of the film is the only one Pereira did not dig up in some forgotten room, and it’s a shot of the feet of a giant statue of Stroessner, the rest of this monstrosity having wound up between other junk in some storage room. It’s a hopeful ending to a somber film that is made for our times, but not for most of our audiences.