'The 33' Wears Its Heart on Its Sleeve

The 33, a dramatization of the 2010 San Jose mine collapse in Chile, has all the markings of a Hollywood tentpole film. Heartfelt, incredible true story: check. Touching human drama: check. Stirring score: check (it’s one of the last created by composer James Horner before his death in June, giving it extra poignancy). There are more lines about “not giving up” than there are tears in an Oscar acceptance speech. The 33 fits the end-of-year crowd-pleaser profile in every way.

The 33 tells the famous story of the collapse of the gold mine in Chile’s Atacama desert from three different perspectives. One is the 33 men trapped in the collapse who all miraculously survived, even after being stuck 2,000 feet below ground for over two months. The second is the perspective of their families, who set up camp near the mine and refused to leave until their loved ones were rescued. The final perspective is that of the men’s rescuers — a government official (Rodrigo Santoro) and an engineer (Gabriel Byrne) who are tasked with somehow getting them all to safety.

The film doesn’t exactly stand apart in its storytelling style, visuals, or performances. It does, however, communicate a message along with its inspiring tale that helps it stand apart. The 33 is a tale of faith, family, and community. It is less complimentary, however, of corporate interest, and the hold that commerce has over government leaders. It’s a message that anyone who’s been part of Christian community, or who has prayed and worked for social justice, can identify with.

The first indication we get that something isn’t right comes from manager Don Lucho (Lou Diamond Phillips) who’s noticed evidence of shifting in the mountain housing the century-old mine. His boss refuses to listen. After the collapse, miners Mario (Antonio Banderas) and Alex (Mario Casas) try out the mine’s escape ladders, only to find that, as a cost-cutting measure, the ladders were never finished.

As Chile’s minister of mining, Santoro has to convince the country’s president (Bob Gunton) that it’s worth rescuing the men. Once he does, he’s told not to hold the mining company accountable for the accident, since “the mines occupy a privileged position in the minds of the Chilean people.”

Among the miners and their families, however, we see compassion and hope. Wives, sisters, and parents hold hands and comfort each other. They demand answers from officials and take care of each other’s children. Below ground, one man overcomes alcoholism while another teaches him to pray. Banderas’ Mario encourages morale by tirelessly believing in their rescue despite its uncertainty.

While there are parts of the film that feel cliché, and some subplots that could stand to be edited down or removed altogether, it’s undeniable that The 33 wears its heart on its sleeve. We’re informed at the end of the film that the men were never compensated for their ordeal. Their bond of brotherhood, however, remains. It drives home the movie’s point clearer than any other part in the story: that in a political climate ruled by corporate interest, faith and family are not only sustaining factors; they are what get the job done.