Post Mortem Blu-ray Review

The Blu-ray release of "Post Mortem" features a 1080p/AVC-encoded transfer framed in its strikingly wide 2.72:1 aspect ratio. It appears the film was shot on 16mm using anamorphic lenses, resulting in a pronounced graininess and a consistently soft image quality—hallmarks of the format. Fine details are generally lacking, except in some close-up shots where facial textures can be discerned. The color palette is intentionally muted, dominated by beiges, dim yellows, and grays. While black levels are satisfactory, highlights seem deliberately subdued to maintain an overall somber tone. Crucially, the transfer excels in preserving the integrity of the print, showing no signs of specks, scratches, or compression issues.

Presented in its original CinemaScope ratio of 2.66:1, the blu-ray's AVC-encoded transfer accurately captures Sergio Armstrong's bleak cinematography. The contrast is intentionally flat, resulting in a largely grey and subdued visual experience. Although primary colors are noticeably muted, they remain surprisingly accurate while secondary hues appear lifeless. Black levels are excellent, providing rich depth and robust shadow delineation even in poorly-lit scenes. Despite moments of softness and blur—likely related to the film's artistic choices rather than technical deficiencies—the transfer manages to deliver faithful representation with sickly pale complexions and scenes that enhance the film's melancholic mood. Ultimately, while the visual presentation may not dazzle, it aligns closely with the filmmakers' creative vision.

The lossless DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 surround track on the "Post Mortem" Blu-Ray is an impressive and engaging experience. From the first frames, the rumble of a tank's tracks envelops the audience, setting a tone of immersion that persists throughout the film. Despite being a generally quiet movie, the mix effectively utilizes ambient and effect sounds to create a vivid auditory landscape. Sounds such as cheering at a burlesque show, protesters' chants, pouring rain, humming fluorescent lights at the morgue, and the subtle swoosh before an unseen rocket explosion all contribute to the film's intense atmosphere. Juan Cristóbal Meza's somber, minor-key score further complements the overall sense of presence achieved through clear highs and subtly grounding low-end frequencies. The Spanish dialogue is cleanly recorded and can be comprehensively understood without subtitles if one is proficient in the language.

Equally noteworthy is how the audio track enhances the small Chilean neighborhoods depicted in the film. The surround speakers adeptly distribute a variety of ambient sounds—dogs barking in the distance, traffic noise, and crowd chatter—bringing scenes to life in an authentic manner. This dynamic shifts dramatically in the movie's second half, where these everyday sounds are replaced by the stark aural cues of bullets, marching soldiers, overhead helicopters, or eerie silence on empty streets. Directionality is excellent, adding a striking layer to the narrative without making it feel overdone. Front soundstage prioritization ensures well-balanced vocal delivery amidst extensive mid-range detail, creating a spacious auditory image. While low-frequency effects could be more pronounced during action sequences, this holistic lossless mix proves satisfying for a dark dramedy of this nature.

The Blu-ray extras for "Post Mortem" present a succinct, yet engaging collection that enhances the viewer's appreciation of the film. The extras include an array of high-definition trailers and a still gallery, providing both promotional and behind-the-scenes insights. The high-definition presentations are crisp and well-curated, adding significant value for aficionados. While the content focuses on quality over quantity, the availability of production stills further immerses the audience in the film's atmosphere.

Extras included in this disc:

Trailers: Includes high-definition trailers for Post Mortem, Elles, The Fairy, Film Socialisme, and The Robber. Still Gallery (HD): A short collection of sixteen production stills from the film.

Set against the backdrop of the 1973 coup d'état in Chile, "Post Mortem" directed by Pablo Larraín is a compelling, albeit slow-moving, narrative infused with a macabre sense of humor. The film incisively captures two somber lives intersecting during a tumultuous period, delivering a story marked by nuanced restraint and an intentionally oppressive atmosphere. Alfredo Castro stars as Mario Cornejo, an assistant coroner with a lugubrious demeanor, alongside Antonia Zegers as Nancy Puelma, a frail cabaret dancer. Their transient and joyless affair unfolds against Mario’s morose personal life, clouded with the stark realities of political upheaval and death.

Larraín's direction is meticulous, employing an ultra-wide 2.66:1 aspect ratio that creates a claustrophobic yet detached viewing experience. The film’s visual aesthetic is deliberately bleak, with heavy gray overtones and sparse color, mirroring the oppressive mood of the era. This choice resonates particularly well during scenes like Mario's unperturbed reaction to the coup's offscreen chaos while he showers. Other impactful moments include the haunting autopsy of Salvador Allende and the grim scenes at the mortuary, where Mario's clinical demeanor contrasts sharply with the chaos engulfing Santiago.

"Post Mortem" is not an emotionally engaging film but rather one that maintains a dispassionate aloofness throughout. This deliberate stylistic choice accentuates the themes of disenfranchisement and alienation. Mario and Nancy are depicted as dour, complex individuals whose bleak existences are starkly juxtaposed with the surrounding political strife. While the characters may not elicit much sympathy, their portrayal serves as an effective vessel to reflect the dehumanizing impacts of dictatorship and war. The film's unsettling tone ensures it remains gripping in its own right, offering an intriguing if discomforting glimpse into a dark period of Chilean history.

Pablo Larraín's "Post Mortem" is a deeply engrossing, albeit slow-paced, exploration of infatuation set against the ominous backdrop of the 1973 Chilean coup d'état. As the second installment in Larraín's trilogy, the film leverages a distinct 2.66:1 aspect ratio to produce a unique visual narrative that combines neo-realism with sardonic humor. The story follows a civil servant whose mundane life takes an unexpected turn due to romantic entanglements and the country's political upheaval. The Blu-ray transfer, while not exceptional in picture quality, appears faithful to the director's artistic vision. The audio presentation, however, is superb and significantly enhances the viewing experience.

Though the supplementary features are somewhat underwhelming, the release stands out for its compelling depiction of an unsettling period in history. Larraín's direction masterfully blends discomfort and oddity, creating a film that hypnotizes viewers through its slow progression and dark thematic elements. This paradoxical charm ensures that "Post Mortem" resonates differently with each viewer, coaxing varied interpretations and emotional responses.

In conclusion, I’m still not entirely sure how I feel about "Post Mortem." Its slowness and uncomfortable tone may put off some, but it has a hypnotic quality for those same reasons. Pablo Larraín has made a supremely awkward film about infatuation during wartime, and I suspect it'll fall under the love it/hate it dichotomy. Those who appreciated "Tony Manero" should feel comfortable making a purchase, but for all others, I'd advise a rental.