Phase 7

A block of flats is quarantined off as a result of a deadly virus that is sweeping the world. The inhabitants quickly succumb to psychological deterioration as paranoia and claustrophobia set in.

This Argentinean epidemic movie is pretty impressive. Its setting is necessarily limited but the film-makers make the most of it. The narrative is powered mainly by a decent array of characters, well played by the entire cast. The dramatic tensions in Phase 7 come not so much from the virus but from the interactions between the neighbours. As time goes on the microcosmic society of the tower block breaks down and primal instincts begin to take over. The scenario is not unlike one you would imagine J.D. Ballard coming up with, with its look at social norms deteriorating rapidly as they are tested under unusual conditions. The movie benefits too from a nice moody soundtrack that recalls the work of John Carpenter. There is at least one very well executed – and unexpected – gore scene too. In fact, the movie moves into some quite tense thriller territory in the final third. So overall, it tries to make the most of its basic set-up and deliver some suspense and atmosphere along the way. Phase 7 is a very worthwhile psychological sci-fi thriller.

I still remember the time when the influenza pandemic made us all paranoids. This is a microcosm sample of that time. A few neighbors isolated in quarantine fighting each other for survival. Great gags, performances and music with moments of extreme stress. It is great to see Argentinian cinema renewing and betting on risky products. Ironic and somewhat bizarre at times, Fase 7 is a fantastic story that might not like everybody, though. But the discerning viewer can not deny that seldom has been so great production on this land and from now on we should not doubt about our filmmakers' abilities. This is an Opera Prima with a stomping debut that it's well worth seeing!

COMMENTS: Coco (Daniel Hendler) and Pipi (Jazmin Stuart) are a naive, happy couple who do normal kinds of things, like go to the grocery on Saturday morning. This Saturday morning is different however. On their way back, people begin swarming the streets in a panic. An epidemic has broken out and if the media is to believed, it's becoming worse by the minute. Monitoring the situation from home, Coco and Pipi's evening is interrupted by floodlights and loudspeakers. Their building's been quarantined and the emergency respondents are cordoning it off under a huge plastic tent, as if the tenants are termites to be exterminated. They find themselves sealed into their own apartment complex, forbidden to leave. They can only watch from their windows as the outside world turns to bedlam around them.

Bedlam is not confined to the outside for long. Inside, resources dwindle, utilities are cut off, and fellow residents get cabin fever and panic. Coco does his best to keep his head, protect Pipi, and hold down the fort.

It's not easy. It turns out that doomsday scenarios aren't necessarily like fast-paced action movies. Caught in the doldrums, Coco and Pipi are stuck waiting, waiting, waiting... Instead of excitement and contingency, the experience for the group of tenants is more about nagging spouses, running out of lightbulbs and toiletries, and putting up with annoying neighbors, i.e. each other -for awhile that is.

As the situation outside increases in severity, tension mounts. Pipi unwittingly works against Coco by innocently leaking critical personal information about their situation to an untrustworthy neighbor. Tenants fraction into factions. Coco must decide whether to go along with the prevailing group or stay out of it. The situation inside the complex degenerates further when under the auspices of moving a possibly infected neighbor off their floor, it becomes clear that the do-good members of the "apartment association" cell are out for their own gain. One thing leads to another and they attempt to force their way in on a fellow resident to loot his provisions.

The bodies begin to pile up. Residents are dying, but is it from a hemorrhagic plague, or are they being murdered? Sadly, Coco's best option seems to be to join forces with his paranoid but gregarious, survivalist upstairs friend Horacio (Yayo Guridi). He's a nice guy, but maybe insane. Horacio's apartment turns out to be a high-tech, reinforced bunker complete with an armory of automatic weapons, electronic surveillance equipment, maps, and stacks of classified government information. Horacio wants Coco to join forces with him, and offers him a CBR protective suit and a firearm. Then he invites Coco on patrol with him through the darkened stairwells and corridors of their massive apartment building. The neighbors are up to some monkey business of their own and these nightly sojourns through the edifice's labyrinthine passages turn out to be enlightening in an upsetting and disturbing kind of way. Maybe Horacio isn't so paranoid after all. He seems to know an awful lot about what's going on, more than anyone else. But can Coco trust him? Blackly comic but subtly so, Phase 7 combines suspense, grim social commentary, and unsettling insight into human nature in a thriller format which is interrupted by moments of horror. Artfully shot and well paced, Phase 7 makes dramatically good use of camera angles and framing. Lighting is alternately glaring and sterile, and gloomily claustrophobic. This emphasizes the film's thematic contrast; the delineation between the bright, logical, outside world of society, authority and officialdom, versus the insular, isolated, inner world of sanctuary and retreat. Yet as the film goes on, we begin to detect a double meaning; authority is questionable. Society is reasonable strictly on its surface, and only so long as everything is going well. Safe refuge, once cut off from the outside world, can quickly degenerate into an insular den of suspicion, irrational fear, and schizophrenia.

It's the cinematography that accomplishes this. Our sickening epiphany arrives not just from Phase 7's dialogue and action, but from a dual interpretation made possible by the very lighting and camera work itself. Ultimately, Phase 7 is about masquerade; how things -people and situations -can turn out to be something very different from their daily representations.

In Phase 7, Coco discovers that he can't trust anyone or anything other than his own judgment and instincts, but the trouble comes from not knowing for sure whether his personal interpretations are sound. Under the circumstances, with little reliable input to go on, and multiple variables and potential explanations for what's happening, every course of action is a gamble. Coco must do his best to make the right choices to deliver himself and Pipi from myriad dangers which mount behind every turn of their complex's twisting stairwells, foreboding cavernous parking garage, and eerily dimmed corridors.

So imagine if in Shaun of the Dead, Liz was 7 months pregnant, they'd just done their monthly supermarket shop and instead of going out, they'd decided to hole up in her block of flats. And the zombies don't bother to attack (there are no zombies in Phase 7, but it has the feel of a zombie film). But the rest of the apartment block goes a bit mental. That would kind of be along the lines of this film. It's funny (most the humour is pretty subtle but there are a few real laugh out loud moments) and it is quite bonkers but in a really enjoyable way. It's maybe not fair to compare it to SotD, it's not quite in that league, but it is a really enjoyable film with some great fun performances that's worth checking out if you get the chance.

This exciting, low-budget Argentine film by Nicolas Goldbart revolves a young couple, Coco (Daniel Hendler) and Pipi (Jazmin Stuart) living in a small, high middle class apartment complex in present-day Buenos Aires City. Suddenly, the whole edifice where they live is under quarantine due to a strange high-mortality epidemic that affects the lungs of its victims. Thus, Coco and Pipi find themselves prisoners of their own apartment. The same goes for their colorful neighbors. All residents, the local sanitary authorities declare, must remain in their apartments until the quarantine is over. None knows how long would that be. Soon food supplies start to run short. Internet is down; so is television. Things take a turn for the worse and the disease becomes a global pandemic. Authorities everywhere –we learn-- are overwhelmed in a matter of days or perhaps weeks. As millions of thousands of people begin to die worldwide, a state of complete chaos and anarchy follows. A maximum stage alert (Phase 6) is declared by the World Health Organization. Yet things get even worse. The apartment complex mirrors society as a whole as the desperate and paranoid neighbors start making alliances and turning on each other with deadly intentions . . .