‘Take No Prisoners’ Review: Timely Documentary Explores The Emotional Toll Of Wrongful Detention [SXSW]

The first scene of Adam Ciralsky and Subrata De’s propulsive new documentary “Take No Prisoners” begins with a prisoner exchange. As the camera peers through a porthole window of a private jet, Special Presidential Envoy for Hostage Affairs (SPERA) Roger D. Carstens negotiates for the release of multiple prisoners held by the Venezuelan government. It’s a scene that wouldn’t feel out of place in an episode of “Jack Ryan.” It’s also a fascinating window into the mechanics of how these prisoner swaps go, as each side takes time to go on the other’s plane, seeing the prisoners for themselves before exchanging on the tarmac and getting out of there as quickly as possible. 

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What follows is a fascinating portrait of both sides of wrongful detainees, as the film tracks the arrest and detention of Eyvin Hernandez, a public defender from California who was arrested in Venezuela in 2022. Splitting time between Hernandez’s family and Carstens, “Take No Prisoners” foregrounds the emotional toll that wrongful detention takes on a family while also clarifying (to a certain extent) the bureaucratic minefield that goes along with such negotiations. 

On that last point, Ciralsky and De have been given almost unprecedented access to Carstens and SPERA. Not only do their cameras roam the halls of the State Department with Carstens, but figures like Secretary of State Antony Blinken speak about Carstens’ unique ability to negotiate and his empathy for the families of those taken. That emotional connection is palpable when Carstens talks to the Hernandez family, offering vague words about his optimism and belaboring that he cannot go into more detail about the negotiations. 

Such unprecedented access, however, also leads one to pause and consider the motives of both the State Department and Carstens in allowing the filmmakers so much. Ciralsky and De sacrifice a type of objectivity for access and narrative momentum. On that front, the film works, especially on an emotional level. We glimpse Carstens’ travels and negotiations, even if we only watch him walk into rooms and summarize what happened after the fact. 

However, the filmmakers also give Carstens carte blanche to define the parameters of the film, especially regarding his own characterization. That his work Carstens genuinely seems invested in the work he’s doing and quite good at it. The fact that he was one of the few State Department employees to serve in Trump’s first administration and during the Biden administration speaks to the bipartisanship he cultivated. But, the film is aligned with his point of view and takes much of its framework from what he’s working on at a given time. 

A late section sees Carsten move on to hostages in Syria and Russia because of failed negotiations with Venezuela. The film, somewhat abruptly, jumps hundreds of days into the future, if only because Carstens wasn’t focused on Hernandez, even if his family was still pushing for his release and acknowledgment from the Biden administration. At this point, one wishes that the Hernandez family was more foregrounded than the Carstens, especially considering the compelling narrative that sees Henry Martinez, Eyvin’s brother, turn towards advocacy when it looks like the US Government isn’t prioritizing his brother. 

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One wishes we had more context to these events and more nuanced discussions of the ramifications of prisoner exchanges. We only see families and the employees of the State Department. For example, the film quickly brushes over the exchange of Brittney Griner and the convicted arms dealer Victor Bout, which Carstens had a hand negotiating. That exchange, much like the one that eventually frees Eyvin, brings up complex questions about the tradeoff for freeing wrongfully detained Americans and whether these exchanges empower foreign nations to continue to detain Americans wrongfully. Carstens and the film don’t address these questions, perhaps because they don’t fit into the type of narrative being presented here. 

Although the subject matter here is incredibly timely, especially considering the recent wrongful detention and deportation threats that the second Trump administration has levied against Mahmoud Khalil, the Palestinian activist who was involved in pro-Palestinian demonstrations at Columbia, these questions linger around the periphery. They also are fully backgrounded once Eyvin is returned to his family. “Take No Prisoners” might lean too hard on pathos. But it’s still incredibly watchable and more than a little shocking in the access the filmmakers were given. [B]

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