MOVIE REVIEW : ‘Ebro Runs Dry’ a Warning Against Tide of Neo-Fascism

Saeed Assadi’s reflective and unsettling “The Ebro Runs Dry” (at the Monica 4-Plex), once past its serious prologue, switches to a deceptively light note. Mikel (Per Allan Lofberg), a perfectly ordinary Swedish construction worker, receives word that the father he has never met has died in Spain, leaving him his home and his possessions. He takes off with three pals with the idea of turning a necessary trip into a holiday.

Mikel, whose parents divorced about the time he was born, knows little more of his father other than he had been one of the Swedes--521 in all--to fight in the Spanish Civil War as a member of the International Brigade. Upon his arrival in Spain, Mikel quickly discovers that his father had been an authentic hero. Just as he is beginning to absorb a true picture of his father, discovering a sense of identity in the process and also a burgeoning love of the country, he is thrust into mortal danger. All of a sudden, “The Ebro Runs Dry” turns into a political thriller--and a warning against the rising tide of neo-fascism not only in Spain but all over Europe and elsewhere.

The Iranian-born Assadi collaborated with Mats Brigersson on a screenplay with lots on its mind: the inescapability of a past that the young tend to regard with indifference and downright ignorance, romantic ill-fated wartime love, the need for eternal courage and vigilance in maintaining liberty and freedom of expression, and the various ways in which fathers shape the destinies of their sons.

As a director, Assadi, whose background is in documentaries and in teaching film production, is workman-like rather than inspired. His material is potent and timely enough to sustain greater development and punch in the manner of Costa-Gavras at top form. Even so, his film is never less than engaging, is increasingly involving and, by the finish, admirably uncompromising.

Lofberg has a nondescript presence that is just right for the film, which is sparked by the strong, forthright presence of Maite Brik as a fearless La Pasionara-like old Republican. Fernando Chinarro is properly chilling as a suave politician who talks democracy while secretly retaining his firm allegiance to Franco’s ideals. Ironically, the strongest moment in “The Ebro Runs Dry” (Times-rated Mature for adult themes, some violence) occurs not in Spain but in Sweden, where Mikel tries to scrub a swastika off a monument honoring the 164 Swedes who died serving in the International Brigade.