Without Blood is a long conversation between a woman and a man. They could be strangers. Siblings. Friends. Lovers. But what connects them is a nightmare that has changed the course of both of their lives and of so many others. Neither accepts that they’ve been waging their own personal wars, long after the real war has ended. What do they hope to achieve from this conversation?
Without Blood
Angelina Jolie (director and writer), Alessandro Baricco (writer), Seamus Mcgarvey (cinematography), Xavier Box (editor), Joel Cox (editor)
Salma Hayek Pinault, Demián Bichir, Juan Minujin (cast)
September 8, 2024 (TIFF)
At the turn of the 20th century, Nina (Salma Hayek Pinault), an extremely stylish but mysterious woman, saunters to a kiosk to buy a lottery ticket from Tito (Demián Bichir). Their exchange could very well have ended there, but it doesn’t. Nina invites Tito for a drink and, despite some reluctance, he accepts. It may have taken him a moment, but he quickly realizes that he knows this woman, and why she’s here.
Without Blood is an unusual film. Its slowly-unwound narrative is purposefully oblique, not only because of the vague source material—Alessandro Baricco’s novel—but because personal narratives rely on memory, and memory is unreliable. The film is also unusual in the narrative style it adopts. The majority of the story is shared between characters via a conversation between Nina and Tito, punctuated by flashbacks that appear to corroborate their stories, but are just as easily open to interpretation because it’s hearsay. The only truth in this film is in the opening scene which defines both Nina and Tito’s lives.
The film asks what really is truth when so much of it is informed by trauma? As Nina narrates some of the horrors of her life, Tito can’t help but question her calm tone. For Nina, the past has become nostalgia. Nina’s dissociation belies her reasons for inviting Tito for a drink—he was part of the reason for her trauma. Is her pain and anger in the past? Or has she held onto it for 50 years? That’s what Tito and the audience are meant to find out.
I watched Without Blood on the second weekend of the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) where I had ended up with the world’s worst seat—the second row from the screen. But having to lean back to watch the whole screen couldn’t dampen my interest in this film. It was engrossing, asking questions of war and victory, personal trauma, and revenge; questions that desperately need to be asked as we live in a world where people can scroll past multiple wars on their social media apps. Coupled with outstanding performances from Salma Hayek Pinault and Demián Bichir, this film gave me much to ponder as I walked out of the theatre.
Writer, director, and producer Angelina Jolie was a huge draw for me watching this film. I’ve watched some of her previous directorial efforts: In the Land of Blood and Honey, First They Killed My Father, and Unbroken. She regularly makes films about wars, most often real wars and true stories. Without Blood is a departure from the realism of Jolie’s previous efforts. Though this film may not be her best work—directorially First They Killed My Father is better paced and edited—this film takes aim at war, and the lasting impact of it on all individuals; which is informed by Jolie’s body of work as an activist and UN ambassador. There is no glory in war, posits Without Blood. Win or lose, ultimately everyone loses because they have either killed someone, lost someone, or have been killed. Where’s the glory in violence?
With such existential questions at play, Without Blood needed strong performances to sell the dialogue. Fortunately, Hayek Pinault and Bichir are more than capable. With a subtle raise of the eyebrow, a small smile, a distant look, the two actors convey so much with so little. It’s mesmerizing watching them, even when your neck is titled up at the strangest angle. More than the dialogue, their subtle expressions told the story of Without Blood.
The Without Blood team had reached out to me to mention the score composed by Rutger Hoedemaekers. The film itself was so riveting, that I found myself not focusing on the score. I was relieved that the score wasn’t overwrought or overpowering. In a film that relies heavily on dialogue and close-ups of the actors faces, the score needed to be just as subtle.
Without Blood isn’t the best that Jolie has to offer. I would have preferred this film to have been in Spanish, since it appears to be set in Mexico—the location is never confirmed. Some of the supporting cast struggled with the heavy English dialogue. While I personally didn’t mind the tonal shift from the frenetic opening scene to the quiet of the remainder of the film, it did end up feeling like I was watching two different films. Had the film included more of the pacing of the opening scene throughout the film, Without Blood would have felt like a more cohesive narrative.
But I’m nitpicking here because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about Without Blood since I saw it. We need to ask ourselves the questions the film is asking. I found this film to be a gripping indictment of the wars that so many countries are more than happy to bankroll. If only those that fund these wars would sit down and watch this film instead.
