Joey Magidson
Seeing a filmmaker (or in this case, two filmmakers) really break out with something original is a sight to behold. In the case of La bola negra and the pair known as Los Javis (Javier Ambrossi and Javier Calvo), they’ve really pulled something off. Even if I don’t quite love the film quite as much as nearly everyone else, my appreciation for it, and admiration for what they’ve achieved, is off the charts. As one of the higher profile titles playing at the Telluride Film Festival, there’s no question that this flick has continued to amass a significant amount of lovers.
La bola negra is obviously indebted to the work of Pedro Almodóvar, though the size and scope of this movie is unlike anything Almodóvar has ever really attempted. This is an intimate tale of love and pain, just done on the scale of an epic. Even as I found the running time bloated and the pacing occasionally thrown off by the triptych nature of the narrative, I sure was never bored.
Set in 1932, 1937, and 2017, we follow the lives of three interconnected gay men as they navigate challenges, love, and the world around them. At the onset of the Spanish Civil War in 1937, Sebastián (Guitarricadelafuente) survives an attack by Italian planes on his small village, only to be conscripted into the fascist army. There, he confronts his sexuality as he becomes fascinated, and perhaps obsessed, by a prisoner of war he’s guarding in Rafael (Miguel Bernardeau). Jumping in time to 2017, historian Alberto (Carlos González) has to navigate his complicated family history when he learns of an inheritance from the grandfather he never knew. The inheritance is a document that sends up back to 1932, where Carlos (Milo Quifes), sees the revolution coming, but is more focused on joining his father’s social club. The club has heard rumors about his homosexuality and blackballs him. being black-balled from his father’s social club due to unseemly rumors about his sexual proclivities. The manner in which these stories tie together isn’t immediately obvious, but by the end, you’ll realize how they’re all in conversation with each other.
The cast is quite strong, with musician turned actor Guitarricadelafuente making a very promising debut on the screen. He has the most to do here, though Carlos González and Milo Quifes get moments to shine. González being in the contemporary section helps to make him stand out a bit, but they’re all doing rather good work. In addition to an also solid and stoic Miguel Bernardeau, the film also has notable cameos from Glenn Close and Penélope Cruz. Both stand out and take attention away from their male counterparts, but both are welcome presences as well.
Co-directors and co-writers Los Javis (working with writers Alberto Conejero and Federico García Lorca) explode on the big screen after having been successful television storytellers. Here, Javier Ambrossi and Javier Calvo are embracing the size of cinema, all while keeping the emotions intimate. Ambrossi and Calvo impressively drop you into a war, wrap you up in music, and movingly depict the power and pain of forbidden love. One could argue that the script doesn’t fully make the 1932 section necessary, as well as the fun yet superfluous Cruz cameo, but there’s a lot to like about what they’ve achieved here.
La bola negra fell just shy of where I could fully love it like most of my colleagues, as well as most Telluride audience members, but I deeply appreciate it. I was moved, I was compelled, and I was impressed. This feels like the big Oscar push from Netflix, and if so, they have a unique contender on their hands.
SCORE: ★★★
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