Film Review: Chronicle of a Boy Alone (1965) by Leonardo Favio

Text by Ignacio Hitters

February 2021

"You are unbearable. You are filth. You're the rotten apple, you corrupt them all!"

Considered a classic of Argentine cinema, Crónica de un Niño Solo (Chronicle of a Boy Alone, 1965) is one of those films that truly does not age. Its raw yet highly calculated shots, coupled with a devastating and highly relevant script, make Leonardo Favio's work as good today as it was on its release date.

Leonardo Favio had a complicated childhood. Born in Mendoza in 1938, he was abandoned by his father at an early age, causing him to spend many years of his life institutionalized, between orphanages and reformatories. After a short stint as a sailor, he moved to Buenos Aires, where he began working as an actor, slowly earning the respect of his peers and the industry. But this was not enough for Favio. Half a decade after working in various films, and with the help and mentoring of his friend Leopoldo Torres Nilson, he begins his extensive career as a filmmaker and screenwriter, and not long after, his career as a singer-songwriter.

Crónica de un Niño Solo was his first film and possibly his most famous and important. Knowing where Favio comes from, it is interesting to analyse the autobiographical aspects of this work. The film begins with the character of Polín, an eleven-year-old who lives in a reformatory for violent minors. Right off the bat, we understand that due to the context they grew up in, the residents of the reformatory behave much more like adults than children, from participating in brutal fights, to talking about what types of cigarettes are best, to wanting to be sedated in the infirmary to ¨have a swell time¨. No bond between children is genuine or deep. For them, innocence is a privilege to which they never had access. Polín does not receive visits from his family, so he has nothing to wait for during the week. The only thing that keeps him on his feet is his deep dream of escaping, somehow living in this fantasy that everything is much better outside. Inside, however, he is considered toxic, just another child lost in the system. The penalty for an escape attempt is exhaustive exercise, ridicule from the guards, and sleeping in the dungeon. The attempt is still worth it, because outside, at least, he’s free.

 After a masterfully crafted escape scene, Polín heads home. Only then do we realize how complicated Polín's life is. His mother lives in the slums and his father does not appear. His neighborhood is surrounded by both good people and violent thieves. In the streets, they argue about who killed whom, or whether that death was a suicide or an accident. Polín is mostly unfazed by this, in a way conveying that these are normal day-to-day themes. He spends his time hanging out with a childhood friend of his, his only companion, with whom he goes to a river. This is where the most disturbing event in the film takes place - the savage rape scene of Polín's friend by a group of older boys. Here’s when something important is implied - the socioeconomic background of these children has completely destroyed them. In a world where weakness is not allowed under any circumstances, everything is violence and superiority. Even sex. 

The third act of the film is the most bittersweet, as it has a few beautiful moments between so much pain. The character of Fabian is introduced, performed by Favio himself. Fabian, a carriage driver, is a good guy towards Polín (implying that he identifies with the boy), and Polín for the first time begins to show childish attitudes towards someone or something - Favio’s horse. Shortly after, the association of sex with superiority is presented again, and contrasts heavily with his child-like attitude. During the night-time, Polín observes a line of men waiting outside a prostitute’s house, and is fascinated by the sight. He, we just find out, has been saving money so that he can lose his virginity, finally becoming a man and leaving all traces of childhood behind. Despite this scene seemingly heading into a disturbing territory, he ends up deciding at the last minute to go play with Fabian’s horse instead of fulfilling his fantasy. The disparity between what Polín wants to be and what he really is is strongly noted here. Polín has to be strong as he never had a chance to show weakness, and there is no one stronger than his perspective of a grown man. He’s desperate to grow up, get out of the reformatory, and live however he wants. Instead, Polín is a child, and although he hasn’t wasted any time and grew up fast, he’s still a child who can’t take care of himself in such a hostile world. At the same time, Polín identifies with the horse, a free soul who actually ends up having to comply with what his superiors say. In some way, the horse represents his deep desire for emancipation. The film ends with a policeman finding Polín, and taking him to the orphanage, while Polín cries, begging to be released and saying he’s done nothing wrong.

The ending of the film could be considered particularly devastating because it hints at the fact that Polín’s life has no solution or happy endings. Along with many other children, he is in the destructive cycle of entering, escaping, and reentering institutions. After spending their years of development in such places, most of them know only such a life, leaving a very bad future forecast. At the same time, life outside of institutions is not much healthier for these children anyway, leaving a sense of unresponsiveness and aggressive anxiety. The contrast between the heavy themes and the beautiful images was something clearly taken into account in this production. Moreover, one could say that Favio was the first Argentine director to present truly admirable shots, well exemplified by the sequence shot of the escape scene or the descent down the reformatory stairs presented from an incredibly calculated angle. It is also worth noting that the lake scene, which is incredibly shot, paced and edited, crafted into a very upsetting piece of media.

 Of course, Favio is one of the most acclaimed Argentine directors and is considered a poet and a revolutionary in the field. Still, I feel like the mainstream mostly forgot about him. At least within my generation, nobody watches his cinema, and it kinda saddens me due to his themes not really losing much relevance. The concept of marginalised people that cannot get out of such a situation easily remains prominent today, even more so post-pandemic. This film feels dedicated to a world Favio knew well, dedicated to the kids who lived in such conditions and suffered because of it. Favio made it out. Many others didn’t.