La Bola Negra is a Queer Epic Like No Other

Rating: 4 out of 5.

The breakout film of Cannes, with a loud purchase by Netflix and an eye towards the Academy Awards, Spanish queer epic La Bola Negra (2026) has a deeply felt connection to the stories of the untold and how that untelling can create the uneasy ground for future generations to live on. 

Inspired by the unfinished work of the same name by Federico García Lorca, as well as the play La piedra oscura by co-screenwriter Alberto Conejero, filmmaking duo Javier Calvo and Javier Ambrossi, commonly known as Los Javis, have announced themselves to the wider world with a bold and evocative epic spread across decades in Spain.

In 1932, Carlos (Milo Quifes), at the behest of his father, seeks to gain membership in the city’s exclusive casino but is denied (blackballed) on account of local rumours of him being homosexual. In 1937, listless musician Sebastián (Spanish singer-songwriter Guitarricadelafuente in one of the best performances of the year) is conscripted into the Spanish Civil War by the pro-Franco army, where he meets and falls for a leftist POW. In 2017, Alberto (Carlos Gonzalez), a playwright turned historian, receives an unexpected inheritance from a distant grandfather, causing friction in his already fraught relationship with his mother.

Guitarricadelafuente as Sebastián in La Bola Negra

From the opening images, we see that Los Javis are interested in the great human scale of classic Hollywood, but with the modern digital lens rather than pure nostalgic lens that would’ve been terminal to a film of this kind.

The film is a tragedy of what happens when we deny ourselves; this queer identity triptych is didactic and bold, wearing its desire for acclaim proudly across its shoulders. With an eye towards One Perfect Shot maximalism, the Carlos sequences in particular. La Bola Negra is constantly pressing meaning out of every camera placement and blocking choice. When it is revealed the nature of why these moments are so heightened, the film more naturally locks into place.

Sebastián, in the centre of the film’s timeline, is the beating heart of the film. A mess of emotions and desires, forced into the most rigid of boxes, he discovers a glimpse of a brighter and more expansive Spain upon meeting Rafael Rodríguez Rapún (Miguel Bernardeau). A real life footballer, soldier, and personal companion of Lorca, Rapún blends the timelines together in unexpected ways, pulling beauty, tragedy and melodramatic poetry out of difficult scenes that require a delicate touch.

Sebastián, whose inability to navigate the moment has him retreating to a bathroom windowsill, frantically playing his trumpet to calm himself. The film has supreme confidence in landing these moments of overwhelming emotion, using Guitarricadelafuente’s embodied tumult and heartbreak as a pillar that generations will be built upon. 

Guitarricadelafuente Miguel Bernardeau as Sebastián and Rafael Rodríguez Rapún
in La Bola Negra

There is a palpable modernity to Alberto that allows the torch-passing cuts from story to story to land with potency. A digital alarm. A Grindr notification. Martin Solveig and Dragonette’s Hello, the directing pair know how to use modern moments to create friction with the past. His search for meaning in the past is more grounded and elliptical than the narratives taking place in the 30s, turning a film that begins with a shout into a more measured narrative speaking volume. This does create an inconsistent tone that, while clearly intentional, lacks the avalanche-like structure Los Javis are striving for.

Weaving these stories of queer men unmoored and uncertain on how to navigate a combative, fascistic Spain across decades with dedication, La Bold Negra flitters between a tactile poetry and uninspired melodrama until finally arriving at a surprisingly emotional and potent final act.

With a second half in need of a jolt, the film offers us an explosive performance by Penélope Cruz. Arriving at the perfect time in the epic, giving Sebastián a true north star with the promise of a future in Madrid.

Where the film discovers transcendence is in its moments of musicality, either through the original song “La Nieve” (“The Snow”) by Guitarricadelafuente, or through composer Raül Refree, who is given key scenes to shine through a combination of modern synths and older instrumentation. The film has an air of deep collaboration and heart from many great Spanish artists, with an eye to telling the stories of Lorca’s unfinished work to a new audience eager to hear it.

“This country has too many love stories buried in the fields”. Operatic in theme and style, La Bola Negra knows how to land its climax with La Nieve, pushing past melodrama to arrive at a moment of poetic, emotional clarity that defines the ambitious goal Los Javis are searching for in their epic. With a groundbreaking performance from multi-hyphenate Guitarricadelafuente, La Bola Negra has a pillar to build an ambitious queer epic we too rarely see in modern cinema. While occasionally dipping into rote melodrama that can feel manicured, Los Javis still achieves moments of emotional reckoning most films only hope to glean, with characters that live long in the minds of its audience.

La Bola Negra is in select theatres from October 15th.

Swinton and Moore Excel in The Room Next Door

Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

The Room Next Door preview screening provided by Sony Pictures.

The blurred lines between long-term friends, and lovers, and the rapid progression of time once a career begins to slow have become legendary Spanish auteur, Pedro Almodóvar’s, chief fascination in recent years, percolating and expanding in unique ways that complicate his melodramatic stories. With an extensive filmography of Spanish melodramas and knotty adult dramas spanning almost 50 years, Almodóvar is exploring a new world of cinema with his new Golden Lion-winning feature The Room Next Door (2024); his first English-language feature film and only his third work of adaptation.

After learning of a recent cancer diagnosis from an old friend, novelist Ingrid (Julliane Moore) rekindles the relationship from her youthful days at a magazine with war correspondent Martha (Tilda Swinton). In light of this diagnosis, the rekindled friendship forms a compelling inseparability, tying the melodrama to some probing ideas on the connection between relationships of all kinds and the presence of death. This friendship is immediately pressurised as Martha decides she doesn’t want to continue treatment, instead acquiring illegal medication to end her life on her own terms, in a secluded house in Upstate New York, with Ingrid accompanying her in the room next door. While not always effective as a knotty dramedy, The Room Next Door is a worthy modern entry in this new phase of Almodóvar, a singular voice in cinema.

Merging a cinematic melodrama inside of an Edward Hopper-influenced (including a centrally placed painting for maximum impact) backdrop shouldn’t sing this harmoniously, but Almodóvar makes it look like breathing. In his first non-Spanish-language feature (after his uneven but charming short Strange Way of Life from last year), Almodóvar’s passion for American literature is evident. However, the chasm between his Spanish lyricism and his English translations flitters haphazardly throughout the film. Like panning for gold in a murky riverbed, The Room Next Door contains beautifully poetic moments of humanity in the face of the end, while many other lines and whole scenes fall flat. 

Tilda Swinton and Julianne Moore in The Room Next Door.

Luckily, the film is kept afloat by two of the best working actors and the best candidates to shepherd the Spanish auteur’s unique form of melodrama into the English language. Moore and Swinton are extraordinary together, quickly adapting to the certain quirks and manners that make Almodóvar’s style stand out in modern cinema. While the film relaxes into its story slower than his previous films, no doubt a complication from this being his first feature in English, its unique blend of offbeat humour and all-encompassing melodrama creates a luscious bedrock to lay in the sun with.

Even with the film adapted from the 2020 novel What Are You Going Through by Sigrid Nunez, The Room Next Door is a spiritual sequel to Almodóvar’s brilliant and tangly Pain and Glory (2019). While not as successful as the Antonio Banderas-led dramedy that operates achingly close to the auteur’s own life, The Room Next Door still excels in exploring contemporary ideas of loss and death in an increasingly uncertain world. In the second half of the film, fluttering between climate change doomsday scenarios brought on by John Turturro’s character Damian — an environmental academic and a previous lover of both Martha and Ingrid — and the criminal coverup necessary to keep Ingrid legally protected from Martha’s assisted suicide plan, is a rush of blood to the head, expanding this seemingly intimate story about two friends into a wider conversation about modern living. While unsuccessful in bridging this gap between late-stage friendship scenarios and the crushing weight of contemporary concerns, Almodóvar’s style still makes for an engaging and breezy ride through Upstate New York. 

A final poetic choice involving Swinton’s daughter Michelle will be divisive, simultaneously poking holes at the film’s clear eyed look at death while also exploring notions of interpersonal legacy in moments of tragedy. Much like Pain and Glory, Almodóvar has given audiences a full meal to chew on for years to come.

The Room Next Door is in select theatres Boxing Day.