With apologies to my beloved Digger, La Bola Negra is the most ambitious movie of the year in a photo finish. Perhaps my feeling that way stems partly from not being as familiar as I would like to be with the history it’s chronicling and mining deep truths from, but Bola is beautiful regardless. Through a weaving narrative playing with time, perspective, and healing, directors Javier Calvo and Javier Ambrossi (I will refer to them as “the Javiers” as I continue on) manage the film’s tone perfectly, making it easy to see why they were awarded Best Director at the Cannes film festival in May of this year. This movie is like a perfectly-baked layer cake: stick a knife in and it comes out clean.
Fictionalizing the discovery of a manuscript of a real unfinished play of the same name by Spanish writer Federico García Lorca, La Bola Negra connects decades of gay men’s experience. During the Spanish Civil War, we follow reluctant Nationalist soldier Sebastián (Álvaro Lafuente Calvo, known professionally as Guitarricadelafuente) and wounded prisoner of war Rafael (Miguel Bernardeau) as they work out their feelings for each other amidst the chaos. All the while, we cut back and forth to the story of the original play, which involves young Carlos (Milo Quifes) being refused membership in an exclusive club due to rumors of his homosexuality, despite his family’s wealth and status. The votes for or against his membership are cast with white and black balls, thus the film’s and the play’s title. In present day, we’re also following Alberto (Carlos González) as he attempts to make sense of the inheritance he’s been given of the unfinished play.
Where these layered narratives run the risk of losing some viewers, I couldn’t get enough of the film’s poeticism, which seems appropriate for something adapting and paying homage to Lorca. The first act or so of Bola is incredibly impressionistic, so much so that the narrative thread threatens to be lost. But there’s a moment where everything very intentionally clicks into place, and because of this, I don’t think the style of that first section is any kind of oversight by the Javiers. What the film heightens to throughout its second half makes one re-evaluate what’s been shown earlier, not in any kind of puzzle-solving way, but in a manner by which the emotions of the piece sneak up and stun you.
All the while, you’re witnessing outstanding performances from an amazing ensemble. I couldn’t possibly get to every actor in this movie within a reasonable word count, but suffice it to say this movie makes a strong argument for a Best Ensemble Oscar. In any case, the Oscar it seems destined to win (apart from Best International Feature at the very least) is Best Cinematography. You will not see a better-looking film this year. Every frame of this thing is painterly, including and sometimes especially the present-day sequences. Director of photography Gris Jordana better save some room on her mantle. For that matter, Alberto Gutiérrez’s editing deserves special acclaim as well. It’s a huge part of the success of the Javiers’ tone management that the film never loses its emotional hooks to poor timing, even in that more impressionistic first act. It’s also uniquely confident in its very particular rhythms and structure, not laying itself out like a thriller, but instead like an epic tone poem, with supreme passion and verve.
Between this and Possible Love, I think Netflix has hit it out of the park with their international awards-season titles this year. I’m so excited for people to see and fall in love with Love as it rolls out on the streaming service, but La Bola Negra’s wider theatrical release is a true blessing. If anything about this film sounds interesting to you, just know that it deserves to be seen on the biggest screen possible. Its ambition is all-encompassing. | George Napper
