Ronny Sianturi
Films that delve into the intricate, often chaotic world of filmmaking have historically found their most fervent audience among cinephiles, a niche that can leave the broader public feeling excluded. While certain cinematic masterpieces have transcended this perceived limitation, such as François Truffaut’s Day for Night, Federico Fellini’s 8 ½, and Jean-Luc Godard’s Contempt, these stand as brilliant exceptions rather than the norm. More recently, Joachim Trier’s Sentimental Value, a critical darling at the Cannes Film Festival that went on to receive an Academy Award, demonstrated the potential for this genre to resonate universally. Yet, the inherent challenge of crafting a universally appealing film about filmmaking persists, often resulting in predictable narratives populated by tyrannical directors, insecure actors, overworked crew members, and unscrupulous producers. Rodrigo Sorogoyen’s latest offering, The Beloved (El Ser Querido), while not entirely immune to these familiar tropes, injects a refreshing dose of originality into the formula, offering a searing portrayal of on-set tension that can, at times, be so viscerally uncomfortable it begs for an immediate "Cut!"
Cannes Competition Unveils Sorogoyen’s Tense Drama
The Beloved premiered in the prestigious Competition section of the Cannes Film Festival, a platform known for showcasing the year’s most significant cinematic achievements. Directed by Spanish filmmaker Rodrigo Sorogoyen, the film centers on Esteban Martínez (Javier Bardem), a two-time Oscar-winning director who, after years of self-imposed exile in New York, returns to his native Spain to helm a period drama. The production, set against the backdrop of the Spanish Sahara (now Western Sahara, a territory occupied by Spain until the 1970s), is immediately fraught with personal complications. Martínez’s risky decision to cast his estranged daughter, Emilia (Victoria Luengo), in the lead role, despite her limited acting experience, forms the core of the film’s dramatic thrust. This dynamic immediately draws parallels with Trier’s Sentimental Value, as both films explore the complex reconciliation between a celebrated but volatile director and the child-actress he has long neglected.
The Bottom Line: Disquiet on set.
Venue: Cannes Film Festival (Competition)
Cast: Javier Bardem, Victoria Luengo, Melina Matthews, Marina Foïs, Malena Villa
Director: Rodrigo Sorogoyen
Screenwriters: Isabel Peña, Rodrigo Sorogoyen
Runtime: 2 hours 15 minutes
Sorogoyen’s Masterclass in Unease
Sorogoyen has established himself as a filmmaker adept at crafting narratives steeped in palpable unease. His 2023 thriller, The Beasts, a critical and commercial success that explored the simmering tensions within a rural Spanish community harboring deep resentment towards a French couple, showcased his ability to build suspense through psychological tension. His earlier directorial work on the acclaimed television series The New Years further cemented his reputation for depicting the ebb and flow of human relationships, seamlessly transitioning between moments of intense passion and profound discomfort. The Beloved largely resides in the latter territory, amplifying the psychological strain on its characters.
The film’s narrative is anchored by the volatile Esteban Martínez, a character brought to life with formidable intensity by Javier Bardem. Martínez, a figure of considerable cinematic renown, returns to Spain with an ambitious project, Desert, a period piece set in a region deeply entwined with his own past. The decision to cast his estranged daughter, Emilia, in the pivotal role is a bold, perhaps even reckless, move that immediately introduces a layer of personal stakes far beyond the professional. Emilia, portrayed with a compelling blend of vulnerability and simmering resentment by Victoria Luengo, is tasked with embodying the complexities of a woman navigating a challenging historical setting, while simultaneously confronting the ghosts of her familial past.
A Deceptive Beginning and Shifting Visual Language
Sorogoyen masterfully builds tension from the outset, deliberately withholding crucial information to amplify the audience’s sense of unease. The initial fifteen minutes of The Beloved offer a prime example of this technique. The film opens with Martínez arriving at a restaurant for a clandestine meeting with Emilia. The nature of their relationship remains ambiguous – are they former lovers, estranged friends, or something more clandestine? This deliberate ambiguity allows Sorogoyen to slowly reveal the painful truth: Martínez abandoned Emilia at birth and has now returned, not only to his homeland but also to his daughter, seeking her participation in his ambitious new film. This revelation fundamentally recontextualizes the subsequent unfolding of events.
As the narrative transitions to the film shoot, set against the stark beauty of the Canary Islands standing in for the 1932 Sahara, Sorogoyen and cinematographer Álex de Pablo employ a dynamic visual strategy. The intimate, handheld close-ups that characterized the film’s opening give way to sweeping, epic vistas. The deliberate juxtaposition of color and black-and-white footage further enhances the immersive quality of the desolate landscapes, mirroring the emotional desolation that begins to permeate the production. This shifting visual language reflects the escalating psychological turmoil, moving from personal introspection to the grand, yet flawed, canvas of filmmaking.
The Tyranny of the Auteur
The on-set conflict escalates rapidly under Martínez’s increasingly domineering presence. Initially, his behavior might be dismissed as the understandable ego of a celebrated auteur navigating the inherent pressures of a challenging production. However, as the shoot progresses, his authoritarian tendencies become more pronounced, culminating in a scene that is both excruciatingly uncomfortable and darkly comedic, highlighting the abusive nature of his directorial methods. Bardem delivers a powerhouse performance as a seasoned filmmaker wrestling with a troubled past and a tarnished reputation. He embodies the paradox of a man who, despite his flaws, possesses undeniable talent, and who desperately seeks redemption through his work and, perhaps, his relationship with Emilia.
Martínez initially attempts to charm his daughter, offering encouragement and support for her acting endeavors. However, when this approach fails to elicit the desired response, his facade begins to crumble. He becomes increasingly erratic, lashing out at cast and crew alike, including his long-time French producer, Marina (Marina Foïs, who previously collaborated with Sorogoyen on The Beasts). This descent into tirades and public chastisement effectively alienates Emilia further, solidifying her resentment towards him.
Familiar Echoes and Missed Connections
The reasons behind Emilia’s deep-seated resentment are, unfortunately, somewhat predictable. Her father’s decades of neglect, exacerbated by a struggle with alcoholism that Martínez claims to have overcome, form the crux of their estrangement. The narrative arc of a director haunted by a dark past and a daughter perpetually scarred by his actions is a well-trodden path in cinematic storytelling. While Victoria Luengo delivers a potent performance as a woman grappling with lifelong emotional wounds, Sorogoyen struggles to imbue this particular aspect of the narrative with sufficient emotional resonance.
Another point of contention within The Beloved lies in the disconnect between the fictional film being shot, Desert, and the tumultuous events unfolding behind the scenes. While Desert ostensibly explores the perils of Spanish colonialism, its thematic relevance to Martínez’s personal struggles and the on-set drama remains largely superficial. The parallel narratives fail to coalesce, diminishing the audience’s investment in the project that Martínez is seemingly risking his career and his fragile relationship with his daughter to complete. This structural disconnect prevents the film from achieving the thematic depth it aspires to.
A Showcase for Sorogoyen’s Craft
Despite its narrative shortcomings, The Beloved stands as a compelling showcase for Sorogoyen’s distinctive talent for cultivating an atmosphere of pervasive unease. It also provides a remarkable platform for Bardem, whose ability to portray men teetering on the brink of explosive anger is unparalleled. His portrayal of Martínez evokes a sense of barely contained menace, reminiscent of Anton Chigurh, albeit confined to the high-pressure environment of a film set. In the spirit of Jean-Luc Godard’s famous assertion that "cinema is truth 24 times a second," Sorogoyen’s tense outing suggests that sometimes, the most profound truths emerge when the cameras stop rolling and the raw, unvarnished realities of human experience come to the fore. The film’s exploration of the blurred lines between artistic creation and personal destruction, set against the backdrop of a high-stakes film production, offers a potent, if at times frustrating, glimpse into the often-painful process of both filmmaking and familial reconciliation. The film’s critical reception at Cannes suggests a divided opinion, with some critics praising its unflinching portrayal of psychological turmoil and artistic ambition, while others found its narrative trajectory to be less than groundbreaking. Nevertheless, The Beloved has undoubtedly sparked conversation, a testament to Sorogoyen’s ability to provoke and engage his audience.
