Suddenly, two documentaries about ETA

Netflix has just premiered Miguel Ángel Blanco: the 48 hours that changed everything, a documentary by Jon Sistiaga and Juanjo López that delves into the countdown ETA set to kill the PP councilor from Ermua after kidnapping him, in July 1997. The broadcast coincided with the anniversary, even though it is not a round anniversary: this summer it will be 29 years since that murder. The documentary coincided, with a few weeks difference, with the premiere on Movistar+ of Gregorio Ordóñez, the assassination that sparked the rebellion against ETA. The production by El Diario Vasco commemorates the attack against the PP councilor of the Donostia City Council in 1995.

The coincidence seems symptomatic, considering that this type of audiovisual tribute is usually made looking for round anniversaries. It is inevitable to suspect if, in such a turbulent political context in Spain between the PSOE and the PP, in the midst of parliamentary, judicial, and media warfare, documentaries suddenly emerge that reactivate the narrative of terrorism against PP victims. Both documentaries support the thesis that those assassinations caused a turning point in the reaction of citizens against ETA. It is logical to want to give meaning to such tragic deaths and to consider that the misfortune served to change things, even though the terrorist group continued to kill in the following years.

The assassination of Miguel Ángel Blanco, announced with an ultimatum, caused such a great social shock, due to its cruelty, that watching the Netflix documentary is almost an impulse, because over the years the impact endures, but we have erased the details. Recovering the story obeys the need to better understand what happened and, above all, to discover all that was not explained to us at the time. The use of television fragments from those hours allows us to confirm the evolution of news coverage and the protection of those affected. However, as is usual in Sistiaga's productions, the journalistic approach causes astonishment. The documentary is emotional and features first-hand testimonies, both in the political, family, and informational aspects. That the voice that opens the narrative is that of King Felipe VI demonstrates the will to validate the officiality of the narrative. However, Sistiaga's first-person narration is lamentable. And not only because of a sugary and sensationalist script read with pathetic mawkishness, seeking pauses and lyrical resources. Also because he puts more bread than cheese into it, including himself in the drama as if he had been closer than anyone else to locating ETA's hideout. The images of Sistiaga walking pensively through the cemetery, directing a message to the deceased as if he could hear him, are shameful. Some cutaway shots are doubtful because you don't know if they are real or recreated. And it is surprising that the images of Blanco, bloodied and on a stretcher, being admitted to the hospital are included.

Miguel Ángel Blanco: 48 hours that changed everything is interesting for the story, but Sistiaga's egocentric exhibitionism deactivates its documentary value.