‘The Good Boss’ Review – Javier Bardem Leads A Searing Satire Of Corporate Capitalists

Julio Blanco is the good boss. After all, nothing matters more to him than the success of his company, Básculas Blanco (Blanco Scales, in English). Er, rather, the success of his employees. The firm is, as he says, “one big family”: see the words “Esfuerzo, Equilibrio, Fidelidad” (“Effort, Balance, Loyalty”) blazoned on the factory walls. And as its metaphorical father, Blanco, too, must do his part. He gainfully spends his time at work stalking his employees, making fake calls to the police, hunting female interns. He’s affected, more than anyone else, by the psychic sadness of laying off numerous employees with insufficient severance pay (reality imitates art, it seems). And he gives inspirational speeches: As he tells his factory workers, when anyone asks, “‘Hey, what’s it like to work at Básculas Blanco?’…you tell them the truth: ‘It’s wonderful.’”

Spanish director Fernando León de Aranoa’s film The Good Boss (2021) is a Glassdoor glance into the ludicrous duplicity of corporate capitalism. The film is often billed as a comedy. In truth, it’s less The Office, more a satirical There Will Be Blood: a biting, often dramatic snippet of the ends one man will go to protect his bottom line and ego. The film opens as Básculas Blanco has been nominated for an award from a regional government. Blanco desperately wants nothing more than to fill the blank space on his trophy wall in his upscale bungalow. And since an awards committee can arrive at any minute, everything in his factory must look perfect: happy workers, a spotless shop floor.

But a disgruntled laid-off employee has set up a protest camp right outside the company gates, the floor manager’s marital problems are getting in the way of his work, and even the scale displayed outside the factory has gone slightly off kilter. This kicks off a particularly stressful week for the self-centered boss. (“I’m fucking sick of healthy democracy. Everyone is healthy and free, but what about my health?” he grouses.) And so, securing perfection requires a clampdown control of everything going on around him—including meddling into people’s personal lives, setting off a chain reaction of increasingly unpredictable events. Blanco’s quest for victory is a stage for shenanigans that are occasionally darkly funny, often purely horrifying, and endlessly captivating (in the way that rubbernecking a car crash or killing time on r/AmItheAsshole is).

Javier Bardem’s starring role as Blanco will likely be the major draw for American audiences who know him from No Country for Old Men, Skyfall, or Dune. And frankly, the attention’s well deserved: Bardem elevates the film from satire into character study through his masterful use of facial expression and body language. Blanco’s benevolent corporate-speak allows him to hide his true intentions under the guise of having the best intentions in mind for his “family,” or employees. But as he speaks, the mask slips—his face twitches in suppressed anger, twists in displeasure—and what he’s really thinking becomes obvious. This is all thanks to Bardem’s incredible control of his expressions and body language, which adds essential layers to the film’s biting dialogue.

However, The Good Boss‘s focus on its titular capitalist—which is, to be fair, its selling point—also causes one of its blind spots. The treatment of labor is one of the central themes in the film: we’re told that Básculas Blanco is responsible for mass layoffs that have devastated numerous employees, including Jose (Óscar de la Fuente), who stages a one-man protest outside of the factory. A portrayal of labor as just another nuisance for Blanco to overcome could make sense in the film’s context: after all, according to Bardem, this is a world where the boss has prevented unity and solidarity between workers, foreclosing the possibility of a union or other collective movement.

However, these dynamics don’t come through in the final film. Jose ends up becoming an unnecessarily vindictive man with no demands besides, essentially, “sticking it to the boss.” Somehow, despite these layoffs being allegedly widespread, he finds no compatriots. And his scenes also feature the most direct attempts at jokes (with questionable comedic impact) which clash with the film’s more serious moments. Intentionally or not, the result is the very real anger and exploitation of workers like Jose—caused by bosses like Blanco— being smothered by a sense of ridiculous absurdity. Ultimately, the best satires don’t just distort or caricaturize reality, but bring all too true dynamics to the light. Blanco ignoring clearly dissatisfied workers should give the film extra heft; it’s a shame that the film’s execution in that department is lacking.

That being said, this genre of “capitalists always win” narrative never ends up being about structural dynamics or changes, but rather the fleshed-out psychology of the individuals who rule the system. And in this case, the fleshed out version is an unsympathetic, unholy amalgam of privilege, ruthlessness, and absurdity that is infuriating, fascinating, and thoroughly entertaining to watch. The Good Boss is a brilliant commentary on numerous familiar corporate ills: the warped nature of privilege and power, the manipulation of diversity and inclusion language, and the suffusion of misogyny in heavily masculine workplaces. And ultimately, it successfully crystallizes the ego, duplicity, and manipulation of a greedy boss that thoroughly rots him to the core.

The Good Boss is currently playing in select theaters with more cities to be added in the coming weeks courtesy of Cohen Media Group. Check out the full list of theaters here.

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bkN6Lu9h85s]