I first saw this movie years ago, during part of a Johnny Depp hyperfixation (ugh.) I’m pretty sure I recorded it off IFC, and don’t ask me how I managed to watch an arty biopic about a gay Cuban poet while I was still living at home—my didn’t-yet-know-I-was-asexual self was not prepared to see Javier Bardem snorkeling at a beach where men’s swimwear was optional.
In the midst of the Cuban Revolution, Reinaldo Arenas finds ways to come into his own as a poet and novelist. He pursues sexual, artistic, and romantic freedom in a society that tells him those things are counter-revolutionary, and his ideas and his love life both make him a target. He does as much as he’s able in Cuba and then begins looking for a way to escape the repressive regime.
In more recent years, I’ve enjoyed the growing popularity in biopics that take a narrower focus, examining one particular period or event from the subject’s life in detail. This film takes more of a classic biopic approach, covering Arenas’ life pretty much from birth to death. We meet Reinaldo’s mother, a formative figure in his life, and watch him develop his passion for words and realize his love for pretty boys. We see him run away in the hopes of joining the revolution that will one day persecute him. Meanwhile, in adulthood, we follow Reinaldo through studies, relationships, books, patrons, imprisonment, and escape plans, first finding his voice as a writer and then fighting to keep it from being silenced.
Despite its more traditional setup as a biopic, the film also prioritizes its artistic expression. Director/co-writer Julian Schnabel employs naturalistic camera work that takes you into the tumultuous middle of the Cuban Revolution, while other sections of the movie are filmed with a dreamlike beauty as the soundtrack washes over you. It’s mostly performed in English with the odd line or extended voiceover in Spanish. Passages from Arenas’ works are read aloud over the action.
Javier Bardem plays Reinaldo, looking especially young and fresh-faced during Reinaldo’s student days early in the film (Bardem’s role here is part of the longstanding practice of casting actors from Spain to play Latino characters, and this isn’t the only time we’ve seen this from Bardem.) In his hands, the writer starts out as something of a soft boi: a little shy, a little eager, a little polite, and a little romantic. But as the revolution starts to criminalize writers and gay men in equal measure, Reinaldo is forced to grow harder to continue being himself in the face of a government that hates him for it. As one of his mentors tells him, “People that make art are dangerous to any dictatorship. They create beauty, and beauty is the enemy. Artists are escapists. Artists are counter-revolutionary.”
I’m not too familiar with the rest of the cast, but unfortunately, two actors who make small cameos are Sean Penn and Johnny Depp. It looks like Penn might actually be wearing brownface, which is especially cringey, and while I no longer would’ve wanted to watch Depp anyway, it’s not great to see him pop up as, not just one, but two Cuban characters.
Watching this film again, I realized it must’ve technically been the first movie that I saw Diego Luna in, though I didn’t know it at the time. I’d been misremembering when the film was made, maybe because I didn’t see it until 2003 or 2004, so I was a little stunned when Luna appeared onscreen and I realized how young he was. This was pre-Y tu mamá también!
Luna has a very small role, appearing briefly as Carlos, a childhood friend of Reinaldo’s. The two of them make plans to run away and join the rebels together, Carlos urges Reinaldo to shoot his shot with a beautiful woman, apparently not knowing that Reinaldo would rather daydream about him. However, their paths quickly diverge, and we don’t see Carlos again.
Recommend?
In General – I might, if you’re prepared for some heavy content. Even though all three films are pretty distinct from one another, I’m reminded a little of both Christopher and His Kind and Benediction, other films about queer writers that combine turbulent love lives with war and strife.
Diego Luna – Not necessarily. Similar to Frida, Luna is only in the film for a few minutes, and his role isn’t a demanding one.
Warnings
Strong thematic elements, violence (including torture,) sexual content, language (including homophobic slurs,) disturbing images, drinking/smoking/drug use, non-Latino actors playing Latino characters, and involvement of an alleged domestic abuser.
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