This was a beautiful film. It was about boys who were becoming men, artists who were finding their talent, liberal homosexuals trying to survive in Fascist Spain, lost souls trying to find love... and themselves. It really was beautiful. Fractured and hard to follow, but it a good way.Javier Beltrán and Robert Pattinson were phenomenal. They're both talented actors, and they had a strange chemistry. Watching Pattinson change from a strange, outcast boy into a intensely passionate young man to an absolutely crazy, flamboyant artist was incredible. (On the other hand, he goes from a Spanish accent to an English accent when eight years pass, although he also does a French one on purpose later, so maybe it's a sign of his craziness.) Beltrán was steady as rock, gentle and sweet and fragile and poetic, for lack of a better word. When I looked for information on Frederico García Lorca, I discovered that the actor and the deceased poet looked shockingly similar.
They used what seemed to be archive footage cut into film, which I always find effective. I felt like I learned a lot from this film, although how accurate it was I couldn't say. I was familiar with Dalí's work, but not his life. And I'd never heard of García Lorca, but I found his poetry to be beautiful and his life to be fascinating and, of course, tragic.
The filming was (yes, you guessed it) beautiful as well. There is one scene in particular where García Lorca and Dalí are young and taking a holiday in Andalusia. It's nighttime and they're swimming in the moonlight together. The way they float around each other seems symbolic of the complicated dance they're doing in their relationship and the lack of clear definition in their lives. Amazing.
I wish I could describe how wonderful the acting and cinematography and writing and absolutely everything were, but there just aren't words. You could call this film "art." Art about art. Magical.
Rating: 4.0
