La Bola Negra
La Bola Negra (in Spanish, with English subtitles) is an epic story navigating Spanish history through the eyes of three gay men who live eighty-five years apart. It is not about persecution, though some of them do face discrimination. It is about perseverance, finding love, companionship and meaning, particularly during challenging times. These are men with differing ideologies, who find beauty in unexpected connections. Family, duty, politics and art collide in a sweeping examination of queer identity, using the work of poet/playwright Federico García Lorca as its inspiration.
“Poetry” is actually the perfect word to describe this movie, as it tells its story through its images more effectively than it does with its dialogue. This is a lovingly crafted, if at times slightly tedious, package, that really does feel like it encompasses so much. At 154 minutes (not including the end credits), it requires patience on the part of the viewer. It is a lot, but in an intimate way that generates a lot of power. It is gorgeously photographed (especially in the 1930s set scenes), luxuriating in its imagery. This is a very ambitious movie, with plenty to say that cannot always be articulated with words. It struggles when it tries too hard to tell us what it is doing. The fact it works as well as it does is really impressive.
In 1932, Carlos tries to gain membership to a social club, facing resistance because of rumors that he is gay. In 1937, musician Sebastián, a member of the rebels, is tasked with guarding former actor Rafael, a prisoner of war, and gradually develops feelings for him. In 2017, Alberto, a gay man interested in queer history, is shocked to receive an inheritance from the maternal grandfather he never met. These three stories intersect in ways that recontextualize these men’s lives.
The strongest part is the 1937 section, based on the 2015 play La piedra oscura, which was written by La Bola Negra cowriter Alberto Conejero. That story encapsulates the movie’s themes the best. Sebastián joins the Nationalists not out of belief, but so they won’t kill him. He’s a trumpet player, not a soldier. When he is told to watch Rafael, he has no interest in following orders to obtain information from the man. However, as Rafael opens up about his time in Federico García Lorca's theater company, Sebastián finds himself overtaken by longing. The bond between the two men, in a dangerous situation, is quite moving.
The 1932 section, based on Garcia Lorca’s unfinished play La Bola Negra, is the most visually compelling. The way Carlos wanders his city, hiding his true self, is dreamlike. It is full of symbolism, as Carlos is under pressure to suppress his feelings so he can be accepted by society. I found it the least emotionally engaging piece of the movie, yet it is very important to the overall picture.
The 2017 material, centering on a historian/former playwright who finds a surprising connection with his late, estranged, grandfather, is the most straightforward and the weakest overall. It contains a couple of highlights, such as Alberto’s enlightening conversation with a Lorca scholar played by Glenn Close, yet it feels almost perfunctory. It serves as a way to tie everything together and it does fulfill that purpose decently enough.
La Bola Negra is big, bold, cinematic poetry. It wears its heart and good intentions on its sleeve. Its characters are challenged. For Carlos, it is by his town and his father. For Sebastián, it is by war. For Alberto, it is by his mother, who was severely damaged by her father’s abandonment. Nothing is easy. The resolutions are neither pat nor contrived. Life has a way of being logical even when we don’t understand it. This has been made to sweep audiences up in the theater. See it there, if you can.
3¾ out of 5
Cast:
Guitarricadelafuente as Sebastián
Miguel Bernardeau as Rafael Rodríguez Rapún
Milo Quifes as Carlos
Carlos González as Alberto
Directed by Javier Ambrossi and Javier Calvo
Screenplay by Javier Calvo, Javier Ambrossi and Alberto Conejero
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