Vadim Rizov’s review published on Letterboxd :
Inevitably time capsule-fascinating to compare/contrast this with fellow traveler-movies from other countries; as its own object, pretty flat. Initially presents as a film about a couple (successfully!) negotiating an open relationship while also strategizing student dissent, which frankly seems like a lot to handle all at once, but the dynamics are less complex than that. He’s a frowning, bearded, Very Serious type ready to make the Raskolnikov leap into killing the rich rather than just protesting them; she’s a server at a whisky bar named Samurai, in a loosely culturally-translated geisha capacity. They’re both committed to the Struggle (she’s reading Marcuse because “I try to stay contemporary,” though admits she can “barely understand it”), but it’s the humorless male extremist who’s the focus—and, per not-unusual open relationship blues, it’s unclear to what extent his choice of murderous target is related to the fact that said dude also slept with his lady, which he swears has nothing to do with it. There’s the setup, the killing, and the fallout; that’s about it, which is enough for 82 minutes.
It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?, but this reminded me of Stanley Kramer much more than I’d expected, its central political/generational conflict endlessly reiterated by fascist father and dissident son at the dinner table, in dad’s medical office, etc., with both sides reductively characterized—the expected link between fascism and sexual hypocrisy is already present, talk of class struggle and the student movement is strictly entry-level. Historically, there’s been a long debate about whether class-consciousness-fomenting cinema should be both politically and formally revolutionary or whether easy-to-process didacticism is more productive; La Repuesta does the latter case no favors, whether through lack of imagination or resources, e.g. filming crucial/tense exchanges between revolutionary bro and girlfriend in angle-unvarying shot/reverse shot. The period footage is a treat, the newspaper cut-out images of French students protesting on the young man’s bedroom wall a point of cross-reference, and I laughed at one off-agenda exchange between the young male revolutionaries (“You’re just horny!” “The word you should use is ‘eroticized.’”); still, this is really only essential viewing for anyone tabulating Tropes Of Revolutionary Cinema.