Borja Cobeaga
Fe de etarras

How far can one go in making a film that represents, from a comedic or parodic angle, an event tied to serious issues in a nation's modern history? Just to say, here in Italy, there was only Mario Monicelli who in 1973 made "Vogliamo i colonnelli," which targeted certain coup tendencies of our own that were not too covert at the time of the strategy of tension. It is the only title that comes to mind because if certain themes are quite alive and recent, it becomes difficult to represent them with a certain detachment.

If other contexts, historically and geographically close to us, are considered, one may indeed stumble upon this title "Fe de etarras" (translated into Italian would be "Faith of ETA members") by the Spanish director Borja Cobeaga, released in 2017 and now available on the Netflix platform. And I really think it's worth retrieving this title because the story addressed has to do with nothing less than the Basque irredentism of ETA (an acronym for Euskadi ta Askatasuna, meaning Euskadi and freedom). Just to briefly recall, as a way of preface, that the ETA organization was formed in the late '50s to claim and implement, even militarily, the independence of the Basque people from the then Spanish Franco regime. In that Spain afflicted by a clerical fascist regime, there were a thousand good reasons to fight for the aforementioned ideals. With the death of Francisco Franco in 1975, the Iberian nation moved towards representative parliamentary democracy, and the political and social evolution continued so much that the struggle of ETA became increasingly sectarian and bloody. Gradually, the organization disintegrated until it definitively threw in the towel in 2018, after several years of truce starting in 2011. All of the above caused the deaths of almost 1,000 people, both civilians and military, and anyway, the pride of the Basque people remains very much alive, whose region, with its specific autonomy, is an integral part of the democratic Spanish state.

The memory of these modern history events is still alive in current Spain, but director Borja Cobeaga is very skilled in portraying the adventurous escapades of a small group of ETA clandestines trying to carry out a demonstrative attack in Madrid in a comedic key. And this in 2010, when ETA was increasingly losing ground, and moreover, the football world cup was taking place, which saw the Iberian national team win the coveted trophy in the final against the Netherlands. The four irredentists of the clandestine group are simply clumsy: the leader would be Martin (played by a great actor like Javier Camara), who, after a long hiding period in Venezuela, should return to action upon the explicit phone call of an old ETA leader. He must rely on the contribution of Pernando, a sympathizer from La Mancha and a self-proclaimed explosives expert (but he will not prove up to the task) and a pair of lovers who, more than the armed struggle, aspires to depart for Uruguay. A kind of Brancaleone army, therefore, which perhaps will turn out to be more adept at carrying out the cover activities of their mission, namely skillfully performing building renovation works in the Madrid area. A peaceful and commendable way, this, to practically demonstrate that Basque workers distinguish themselves better than other Spaniards.

The film is recommended to be watched in original language with Italian subtitles, precisely to grasp certain comedic nuances of the events depicted. Meanwhile, references to Basque gastronomy are not lacking, precisely to emphasize how it is one of the best on the Iberian Peninsula (and I can confirm this, in light of what I have tried in my travels in Spain). Even the protagonist Martin supports the thesis (perhaps somewhat bizarre) that a terrorist cell is efficient if its members consume excellent meals. Sure, some Basque dishes based on peppers stuffed with spiced meat, certain minced meatballs, and various fish recipes like cod pil pil already make one's mouth water.

And then there's all the contained aversion, so as not to arouse suspicions, of the four clandestine Basques towards the successes of the Iberian national football team. In their hearts, they would prefer other national teams to win, but they have to pretend to root for Spain by wearing rosettes, hats with national colors, and even unrolling a long Spanish banner from the balcony of their apartment. The height of heights for four etarras...

In short, a film with a lively and highly enjoyable rhythm. Therefore, congratulations to a Spanish director who manages to lighten the inconveniences of those who, in the final phase of Basque irredentism history, find no way and motivation to make a demonstrative gesture of their struggle, which is now obsolete by the new Spanish political framework. It still comes spontaneously to me to think that in an Italy plagued for years by terrorist attacks committed by armed bands from both the far right and far left, no director (except the well-known Monicelli) has made any film aimed at providing a parodic and irreverent view of people affiliated with subversive and insurgent groups. Perhaps in our parts, there is still not the strength to create something of this kind.