The premise that moved the first film of the saga The purge, Created by James DeMonaco in 2013, it continues to rise thanks to two very different issues, one internal and the other external. First, because of the dramatic power of its dystopian starting point: in a new totalitarian United States, commanded by the so-called New Founding Fathers, it is intended to tackle violence with one night a year of crimes and legal crimes, in which the Police and health services remain closed, which is supposed to appease the anger of the citizens for the rest of the days until the purge of the following year. Second, because the subtext that accompanies the main argument —that it is an uneven struggle since those above can pay for their security and those below have all the numbers to die for—, is still valid in the reality of recent times. From the land of the stars and stripes: social disorders, a country ideologically split in half and growing influence of fascist movements, with the elusive and complacent gaze of former President Donald Trump during his years in office.
So this fifth installment of the series, written by DeMonaco and, not by chance, with a Hispanic director at the helm, the Mexican Everardo Gout, is articulated as an even more political and dystopian parable, already completely removed from the terror of the first films, in which the idea of a frontier and the confrontation between the purity of the white race and illegal immigration reaches maximum levels, perhaps with thick brushstrokes but with very effective results. To the cry of “¡fake news!”, Those in favor of that journey of crimes protected by the law continue forever, as a way to end in the form of genocide with the poor, immigrants and refugees, murder anyone who does not defend the motto “America first”. In return, a faction of Hispanic workers, fed up with the treatment of their white employers, also joins the concept of infinite purge.
In a few sentences and with a couple of sequences of the initial part around the personality of the new cowboy and life on the ranches, DeMonaco is able to mark that confrontation with conviction, and Gout’s work, more classic than usual but full of rage and blood, directs the film to an iconic final image: a Mexican flag waving at the wind as a symbol of true freedom, accompanied by an interesting twist to the concept of the regularization of dreamers.