Attending a film festival can be exhausting. It’s a quixotic mix of long lines, sleep deprivation, and never having enough time to eat or hydrate. It’s all in the quest of finding a film that reminds you that this job is worth doing, and that cinema is, in fact, as wonderful as we believe it to be.
Over 20 films into the festival, I hadn’t found something that bowled me over. Then I saw La Bola Negra.
Directed by Spanish duo Javier Ambrossi and Javier Calvo, the film is a sprawling epic about three different men. There’s Sebastián (popular musician Guitarricadelafuente) in 1937, a soldier conscripted into the fascist army who is facing a crisis of identity after becoming intoxicated by a prisoner of war (Miguel Barnardo). In 1932, Carlos (Milo Quifes) is dogged by rumors about his sexuality, which result in him being blackballed from his town’s prestigious social club. Then there’s Alberto (Carlos González) in 2017, a playwright turned historian who receives an inheritance from his grandfather that could prove a major breakthrough in his work.
I won’t dare spoil how these seemingly disparate three stories converge, but it’s enormously satisfying when they do. The film is vast and complex; the dialogue is poetic and impactful. This is, in turn, a war drama, a musical, a literary mystery, and a sumptuous romance all in one.
It’s massively ambitious, but Ambrossi and Calvo’s script (written with Alberto Conejero) handles every shift and metamorphosis beautifully. It’s a film that suits going in relatively blind, and letting its sheer sense of scale and scope wash over you.
This is the rare movie that reminds you how powerful the medium can be. It explores how deeply repressed sexuality can shape the person we are, with the 30s timelines providing a sharp contrast to the sexual freedom Alberto experiences in 2017. You can feel how those past struggles led to a more liberated present, and it’s potent enough to send a chill down your spine.
La Bola Negra reminds us how spectacular it can be to pursue love and life at all costs, even when it could cost you everything. It’s emotional, it’s funny, and it triumphantly marches to the beat of its ebulliently gay drum.
It’s a shame to think that because it’s a Netflix release, many people will experience La Bola Negra for the first time at home. I know it’s cliché to say that it’s best on a big screen, but a vision this operatic and massive demands it. Netflix knows that, though: the film opens in October in cinemas, and the streamer is giving it its largest-ever theatrical window before it releases on streaming later this year.
Awards aren’t everything, of course. But TIFF has long been a film festival where the Oscar race takes shape. The festival’s main prize, the People’s Choice award, is voted on by the public and often predicts the Best Picture winner: Chariots of Fire, Slumdog Millionaire, The King’s Speech, Nomadland, and 12 Years a Slave are just some of the award’s winners that walked away with Best Picture after their awards campaigns took off thanks to TIFF.
I mention this because while I wasn’t thinking of Oscars while watching the utterly extraordinary La Bola Negra, the audience reaction stunned me. It’s the only film I’ve seen at TIFF in the last five years where I didn’t see a single phone light up in the dark. That’s both an indictment of the downfall of cinema etiquette and a testament to this film’s power, considering there were nearly 2,000 people there, and the film is 160 minutes long.
Even more remarkable was what happened after the film. While European fests like Cannes and Venice are known for standing ovations after virtually every film, some of which go for over 20 minutes, such a thing is nowhere to be found in Toronto. And yet, when La Bola Negra ended, people leaped to their feet and applauded, hooting and hollering in amazement at what just unfolded in front of them. It continued for about 5 minutes, making it the first standing ovation I’ve seen at TIFF, and an exceptionally long one too.
Bold award predictions have followed La Bola Negra since it premiered at Cannes. But North American and European audiences don’t always respond the same way to films. This exceptionally enthusiastic response all but confirms that Netflix made a killer acquisition out of that festival.
There isn’t anything else like La Bola Negra this year. It’s sweeping, grand, and spectacularly queer. The music is overwhelming in the best way, the performances across the board are stunning, and it’s visually showstopping. It’s a pleasure to drop accolades on a film that so completely deserves them.
Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey is the undeniable frontrunner, sure, but it’s not the only epic with a serious chance at the top prize. It’s got some major competition in the form of this magical Spanish epic.
Before the film started, directors Javier Ambrossi and Javier Calvo said they hoped that their “gay magic” would work on the audience. Mission accomplished.
