Unforgettable, moody, and original (in a genre that has been flunking at the last of those adjectives), this Peruvian offering is both sensual and deeply moving, often at the same time. It takes a gimmicky premise and makes that premise seem the most natural way to tell this particular story.
An ordinary fisherman in a Peruvian village (which gets most of its living from the sea) is contentedly married to a lovely woman and expecting his first child (the first shot of the movie is of him resting his head on the mother's stomach, trying to hear the baby's heartbeat). He has the usual gaggle of slightly overcompensating macho friends with whom he likes to hang out, drink, and play soccer. He also has a male lover, a painter/photographer from the mainland who never seems part of any group and who is subjected to the usual provincial cold shoulder. The painter is a sophisticated modern artist plunked down in a primitive world. After a quarrel with the fisherman, the painter drowns, but his spirit cannot truly die; he hangs around, visible only to the fisherman, trapped between worlds until his body can be found and subjected to the burial rites he scorned when he was alive.
As Miguel the fisherman, Cristian Mercado is just right; although he has a taut physique from working, his looks are a little goofy and off enough to make his terror at not seeming "manly" credible. And Manolo Cardona as Santiago the painter has the kind of face cameras pray for, with piercing blue eyes that could haunt any man (or woman) forever. Santiago is something of a wraith even before he dies; he drifts about the fringes of society, snapping pictures and making periodic awkward overtures to the locals (such as offering to buy drinks after a funeral) which are self-righteously rebuffed. He's only fully alive when with his lover; it's as if a dam broke inside him. And Tatiana Astengo is so sensually easy and playful as the pregnant wife that the moments when she snaps and gives orders are unexpected and tonic. (Her husband swears on Miguelito--the newborn baby--that he isn't homosexual, her response--"Don't ever swear on him. Ever. Do you understand me?" leaves absolutely no doubt about it.) Director Javier Fuentes-Leon wanders around this little town, letting us in on all the nooks and corners, and paints a full picture of a society several decades behind our own in its thinking. There's a gay joke told by Miguel's friends in a bar which was cut and is on the DVD extras; I wish it had been retained, because it sums up the movie's theme--that these men can understand a man sexually desiring another man in an "emergency", but the thought of true love--i.e., tenderness--between men is obscene to them. Santiago's death is initially rather a break for Miguel--he can be with his invisible lover and still live up to his "duty" as a husband and father. Yet Santiago, who was a dirty secret before, is an even more powerless one now, and he has to bear the additional indignity of hearing himself scorned and denied by Miguel. It's hard to imagine a more perfect metaphor for the closet. The story comes to an emotionally satisfying resolution which also seems like a new beginning--one where the possible outcomes are as limitless as the sea.
An ordinary fisherman in a Peruvian village (which gets most of its living from the sea) is contentedly married to a lovely woman and expecting his first child (the first shot of the movie is of him resting his head on the mother's stomach, trying to hear the baby's heartbeat). He has the usual gaggle of slightly overcompensating macho friends with whom he likes to hang out, drink, and play soccer. He also has a male lover, a painter/photographer from the mainland who never seems part of any group and who is subjected to the usual provincial cold shoulder. The painter is a sophisticated modern artist plunked down in a primitive world. After a quarrel with the fisherman, the painter drowns, but his spirit cannot truly die; he hangs around, visible only to the fisherman, trapped between worlds until his body can be found and subjected to the burial rites he scorned when he was alive.
As Miguel the fisherman, Cristian Mercado is just right; although he has a taut physique from working, his looks are a little goofy and off enough to make his terror at not seeming "manly" credible. And Manolo Cardona as Santiago the painter has the kind of face cameras pray for, with piercing blue eyes that could haunt any man (or woman) forever. Santiago is something of a wraith even before he dies; he drifts about the fringes of society, snapping pictures and making periodic awkward overtures to the locals (such as offering to buy drinks after a funeral) which are self-righteously rebuffed. He's only fully alive when with his lover; it's as if a dam broke inside him. And Tatiana Astengo is so sensually easy and playful as the pregnant wife that the moments when she snaps and gives orders are unexpected and tonic. (Her husband swears on Miguelito--the newborn baby--that he isn't homosexual, her response--"Don't ever swear on him. Ever. Do you understand me?" leaves absolutely no doubt about it.) Director Javier Fuentes-Leon wanders around this little town, letting us in on all the nooks and corners, and paints a full picture of a society several decades behind our own in its thinking. There's a gay joke told by Miguel's friends in a bar which was cut and is on the DVD extras; I wish it had been retained, because it sums up the movie's theme--that these men can understand a man sexually desiring another man in an "emergency", but the thought of true love--i.e., tenderness--between men is obscene to them. Santiago's death is initially rather a break for Miguel--he can be with his invisible lover and still live up to his "duty" as a husband and father. Yet Santiago, who was a dirty secret before, is an even more powerless one now, and he has to bear the additional indignity of hearing himself scorned and denied by Miguel. It's hard to imagine a more perfect metaphor for the closet. The story comes to an emotionally satisfying resolution which also seems like a new beginning--one where the possible outcomes are as limitless as the sea.