If you don’t know that “gonorrhea” is a common interjection and insult in Colombian street slang, you may wonder why the characters say that word repeatedly throughout A Male (Un varón), the first feature film by director Fabián Hernández bowing in the Cannes Director’s Fortnight. And vocabulary is not the only limitation affecting the outwardly tough males of the barrio, the crumbling neighborhood where the director himself grew up in. A venomous broth of violent machismo traps those who aspire to survive on those mean streets.
The story is set in a youth shelter and describes the pressures to conform to patriarchal role models. A Male immerses us in the miserable, lonely life of Carlos, meticulously dissecting his hopelessness. The camera follows him from behind as he walks through Bogotá’s crumbling outer fringes. We are given plenty of time to watch his changing coiffures and his baggy pants before we finally glimpse his face, his tattoos, and angry eyes. Young actor Felipe Ramirez keeps center stage, building an impressive performance that soars in the final scenes. There is a documentary feel to the film, as other characters are played by the real people living in the barrio. They are so authentic, however, that one struggles to decipher their mumbled speech.
To get to the story’s climax the audience endures bullying, insults, and violence from the male cast, punctuated by the ever-present, almost comical “gonorrhea” exclamations. (Subtitles may be required for regional release, as the thick slang is incomprehensible even for Spanish speakers). The soundtrack is filled with code words and rap music is ever-present in the joyous singalongs at the local bar, or in attempts at writing lyrics that imitate American gangsta rap.
Fabian Hernández’s theme and his unflinching style have a long tradition within Latin American cinema. Street kids have had leading roles in Luis Buñuel’s Mexican The Forgotten Ones (1950) and the Colombian films of Ciro Durán (Waifs, Cannes 1978) and Victor Gaviria (The Rose Seller, Cannes 1998), all the way to Brazil’s City of God (2002). A Male foregrounds the vicious circle: the waifs, or “gamines,” have multiplied and become progressively more degraded. The film adds another layer of despair as it portrays a young man grappling with his sexual identity in a toxic environment.
Hernández accurately portrays contemporary men’s narcissistic concern about their hairstyle, shaved eyebrows, and bulging pectorals that characterize the “mean macho” look. The homoerotic vibes are there, but we watch Carlos hide his queer longings deep inside the closet, as he tries to comply with his designated role in life. He sells drugs within the youth shelter and has to pay for his own protection. His only relatives provide scarce comfort: his sister is a prostitute and his mother is in prison. One of the most affecting scenes shows Carlos calling his mother from a payphone, revealing the true depth of his frustration and pain.
In another well-staged scene, Carlos shyly handles his sister’s lipstick, shoes, and net stockings in an oblique revelation of his search for sexual identity. Secondary characters are heard but often not seen, as the framing cuts off their heads and focuses obsessively on Carlos’s reactions. In a predictable sequence, Carlos is taken to a brothel and encouraged to lose his virginity with an overweight woman of Fellini-esque dimensions. His reluctance to engage is further proof of his repressed sexuality, and he is teased mercilessly by his peers.
The French and German co-producers and the long list of funders and sponsors no doubt had good intentions in supporting a worthy cause, but the film is so relentlessly depressing it risks becoming poverty porn. It does not: the superb performance by actor Felipe Ramirez saves it from such a title, and his character’s final refusal to fit into the stereotypical male role allows the story to touch our hearts.
Director and Screenplay: Fabian Hernández
Cast: Dylan Felipe Ramirez
Producers: Manuel Ruiz, Louise Bellicaud, Claire Charles-Gervais, Ilse Hughan, Christoph and Josune Hahnheiser
Cinematography: Sofía Oggioni
Production design: Juan David Bernal
Music: Mike Kourtzer, Fabien Kourtzer
Sound: Isabel Torres, Jean-Guy Veran
Production companies: Medio de Contención Producciones (Colombia), In Vivo Films (France), Fortuna Films (Netherlands)s, Black Forest Films GmbH (Germany), RTVC Play (Colombia)
World sales: Cercamon
Venue: Cannes Film Festival (Directors’ Fortnight)
In Spanish
82 minutes
