Branding Spanish, South of the Border

Quickly, name three countries that border Bolivia.

If you have already stopped reading or resigned yourself to ignorance, Our Brand is Crisis, which documents the surprisingly powerful influence of American cinema in the 2002 Bolivian elections, is probably not for you.

But, if you cheated and quickly looked at a map, felt embarrassed that you couldn't answer, or knew that any combination of Brazil, Peru, Chile, Argentina, or Paraguay would have been correct (obviously), Our Brand is Crisis is crucial viewing-if only to add to your education, curiosity, or pretentiousness, respectively.

The documentary's suspense is based on the assumption that the audience is completely unfamiliar with Bolivian politics, playing up the anticipation of the election's results as though they were fictional. The film follows the re-election campaign of former president Gonzalo Sanchez de Lozada, called "Goni" in all but the most formal of situations, who has enlisted the help of American media-savvy consultants to help him win.

While it may be comforting to think that the U.S. system will work in any country, the film shows very plainly that Bolivia, at least, is a very different situation. Most of the consultants have worked with Democratic candidates in the United States, which gives the audience a preliminary judgment as to which candidate to support. In Bolivia, however, Goni is widely considered to be one of the most conservative of candidates. The audience's loyalties are challenged, and they are asked to decide for themselves-forgetting the divided rhetoric of the United States-which issues are truly important to them.

The film never reaches a firm conclusion on the issue of American interference, as it chooses to waver between both camps. While director Rachel Boynton gets a lot of narrative mileage out of the journalistically unprecedented access she was granted to the campaign, she seems too determined to make a statement against the outsider influence. Though Boynton strives to be a camera-carrying muckraker, her attempt is rendered futile by the unlimited access her subject affords her. There are a few tantalizing lines thrown in, but there is a prevailing lack of persuasive argument. It is as though the film is too objective, an unexpected problem for a film about such a divisive region.

Yet Boynton's non-partisanship may have been deliberate, as the audience is allowed to make its own decisions only because Our Brand of Crisis doesn't reach a decisive conclusion.

It begs for questions to be asked, and leaving the theater, it is almost certain that you will have more than a few yourself.