Carlos

Olivier Assayas's ambitious, hipster chic miniseries Carlos tells the story of Ilich Ramírez Sánchez aka Carlos the Jackal, the notorious international terrorist/mercenary of the 1970s and '80s. Sánchez (Édgar Ramirez) is portrayed as a charismatic, but vainglorious, blowhard, a womanizer who professes great ideals ("Behind every bullet we fire, there will be an idea"), but is more interested in his own image than in any cause. He's irredeemable, but Assayas cannily shows us how everything he does is abetted by corrupt and conciliatory "official" power. Ramirez gives one of those awards-baiting performances where the character's weight rises and falls in inverse proportion to his fortunes. Ramirez does solid work, but there's not much complexity to the role. We know everything we'll ever know about the character early on, and then it's just a question of watching how his particular pathology will impact those around him. A midpoint sequence detailing an assault on an OPEC conference is a masterpiece of expertly prolonged tension. The film can't maintain those heights, but it's never less than interesting. It percolates with international intrigue, and the widescreen images and unfussy, but precise, period recreations—even the anachronistic soundtrack (The Feelies, New Order)—give it an extravagantly debauched mood. Carlos was released theatrically in both a five-plus-hours version and a condensed, less atmospheric "greatest hits" cut at half that length.