Alejandro Marín returns to cinema with a bold, uncompromising feature that gathers the raw energy of his earlier work while widening the lens to a pivotal moment in Spanish social history. Known for his collaboration on the acclaimed Maricón Perdido project, Marín brings a blend of fierce honesty, moral clarity, and a deeply human warmth to this new movie. The film is propelled by a fearless conviction: art can illuminate pain, anger, and joy at once, and it should, if it wants to move audiences to feel something true about themselves and their communities. The director’s choice to foreground lived experience over neat conclusions makes the movie feel urgent, personal, and profoundly alive from first frame to last, a quality that resonates with viewers who crave cinema that speaks in a loud, authentic voice.
The narrative unfolds during a formative year in Andalusia in 1977 when the LGBTQ+ movement began to surge into public life. At its heart is Reme, described as a widower whose religious devotion and passion for change create an intense inner conflict that mirrors the broader social upheaval. Through Reme, the film charts a journey of discovery and rebellion, where faith and desire collide in a society grappling with tradition and modernity. Interwoven with Reme’s personal evolution is the story of his teenage son, a young artist in the making whose awakening to his own identity becomes a catalyst for family and community shifts. The cast delivers performances marked by restraint and intensity, with each scene built to sustain a delicate balance between honesty and vulnerability. The ensemble work breathes life into a world where love, fear, and hope coexist in a crowded, imperfect reality, and where every choice carries weight far beyond the screen.
The cinematic texture of the film is an artful tribute to a bygone era, capturing the ambience of late 1970s Andalusia while allowing the emotional clock to tick in a way that feels both historical and immediate. The aesthetic choices serve the story rather than overshadow it, creating a sense of time that is faithful without becoming a rigid archival exercise. Even as the script leans into stark moments of anger and conflict, there is a persistent warmth in the portrayal of the characters, a humanist instinct that anchors the most dramatic sequences. The result is a film that does not sensationalize tragedy but rather uses it as a means to illuminate resilience, camaraderie, and the stubborn persistence of hope in the face of repression. The actors, led with deft sensitivity, convey a spectrum of need and longing that makes every scene a small, unforgettable moment of truth. The emotional center of the film is sustained by the combined strengths of the cast, whose performances feel lived-in and deeply felt, turning what could be a political chronicle into a intimate, enduring portrait of a generation coming into its own. The storytelling earns its emotional punch through a steady accumulation of small, precise details, from the rhythms of everyday life to the charged conversations that ripple outward into larger questions about identity, community, and belonging.