La Bola Negra
(2026 | Spain | 160 minutes | Javier Calvo, Javier Ambrossi)
[Editor’s Note: Fittingly for a sprawling multifaceted historical re-imagining, La Bola Negra is sparking conversation. Josh had a mixed-admiring reaction out of its Telluride North American Premiere. Ahead of this week’s theatrical release, Morgen and Eric came out of a local FYC screening with very different responses, read ’em all and decide for yourself!]
There’s no way to sum up this film in a simple paragraph or two, but I’ll do my best to hit the high points. There are three stories, all set in Spain, centuries apart, unfolding simultaneously. One created on the page, one recreated from the past, and the third living in the present. Carlos, A young gay man in 1932 (Milo Quifes), attempts to join a private club, but is blackballed (aka “La Bola Negra”) because his sexuality is an open secret among the upper class men that would otherwise admit him to the casino. It seems he could care less about membership, but his father is adamant and insists he try again, this time lying about his true nature in order to fit in. Next we meet Sebastián (Guitarricadelafuente) in 1937; he survives the massacre of his hometown by fascist Italian forces obliterating the only home and family he’s ever known only to be scooped up by the very people who destroyed them. With no other choice but to join or be killed himself, he walks on pins and needles for years losing sight of himself and what makes him whole. And finally we find ourselves in 2017 with Alberto (Carlos González) who is openly gay and struggling with his own past and future. Posthumously he learns of his maternal grandfather and that he has inherited a mysterious something only to be revealed upon visiting the small northern town of Lafuente where his abuelito resided. Long-hidden secrets await him, begging to be brought into the light. It is the story of the ties that bind us, oppression and generational pain that flow through time like ripples on a pond and finally finding the strength to end the repetitious suffering passed down for centuries.
I’m not the only Sunbreaker that had the opportunity to see La Bola Negra prior to its wide release, you can check out Eric’s incredibly thoughtful, beautifully composed assassination of the “The Black Ball”.
It’s fascinating to see what my fellow critic pulled from the two and a half hour film that moved in the opposite direction of where my mind wandered. He brings up some good points, the story was a a bit wandering, and the way the it pulled back after a brief audacious sex scene seemed almost apologetic to the audience rather than taking ownership, embrace the smut or don’t introduce it in the first place. Is promiscuity the hallmark of gay men? I think not… and then portraying Alberto as a lost soul running back to his boyfriend in the end (the two have zero romantic chemistry, I’d believe platonic love at most).
However, my kneejerk reaction to a film is almost entirely emotional. While I’ve never lived my life as a gay man and don’t presume to understand the inherent complexities, no matter your background or preferences, struggling to not only survive but thrive openly and exactly as you are is a universal theme (though admittedly used heavily in gay film, theater and books). There is no romance in this film, but that’s almost what appealed to me about the encounters of every single character. Alberto and his boyfriend, Sebastián and Rafael, Rafael and Lorca, none of them held any romance, perhaps to their own detriment as well as to that of the storyline. This, at the very least, was consistent. The horrors of war, depression inherent in every character from what they wish they had but never strive to attain, and the fetish-like way they held onto that anguish to at least feel something was painful and beautiful all at once.
Perhaps Los Javis (co-directors Javier Calvo and Javier Ambrossi) relied too much on “shocking” turns in the story like the discovery of the missing play, the relationship between Rafael and Lorca, the fight between Alberto and his mother, to move the story forward… but not once did I wonder how much time was left or if the resolution was on its way. I was engrossed by the combination of historical horror, the confusing and complex situations Sebastián was forced to navigate, and Alberto’s fractured relationships with family came together in a way that I found chilling and emotionally draining.
As for Penelope Cruz’s performance, she became Nené and again her arc focused mostly on the suffering she endured amidst singing, dancing and smiling at lecherous men that would rather devour her than treat her with any sense of dignity. It’s the raw emotion they revel in that made La Bola Negra so impactful. I don’t know that I genuinely observed an ounce of joy from any single character regardless of the scene, but it’s not something the I was conscious of until I thought back on it long after I walked out of the theater.
I didn’t think so originally, but La Bola Negra can apparently be a very polarizing story if you allow it to be. I can understand where my fellow critic Eric is coming from and he almost swayed me, but this story is more than just the individual parts, it’s the a jumble of feelings, social expectations, generational anger and a dozen more equally heart wrenching concepts that make every character in the story human. No one thing defines who they are, were or how they experienced the world. Sure, Sebastián seemed like a coward for joining the very people that killed his family and friends, but what would we have done given the same situation? We want to believe we’d be better, but would we really? I have absolutely loved this mental exercise and I want to thank Eric for bringing me along on his journey as well.
La Bola Negra arrives in area theaters on November 6