Tardes de soledad

At first I dismissed this movie, with its repetitive capturing of the spectacle of a Spanish bullfight, where the bull is already injured and certain to be killed in a brutal way. The documentary focuses on the hunter and the hunted, the dance of mortality and winner and loser. While the stadium audience cheers off-camera. The set-up reminded me of movies of Ancient Rome, like Gladiator, where the those who are about to die are thrown to the lions, the lions having the advantage, like the bullfighters here, and the stadium audience sitting in glee, and thrill as to whose blood will be spilled. We, the cinema audience, are also lulled into this dance of death, and the animal grunts (bull and matador), the posturing and angling (bull and matador), the aggression and intimacy of a fight to the death are repeated in various arenas and it is hypnotic. You don't want the matador to be injured, and yet he takes such risks.

So, I said that I almost dismissed this film, but as I have been thinking about it since, I feel Serra has captured very important themes in this very focused matador film. He captures the bravado and judgment and hubris of the hunter (the matador), where the opponent is "bad" and deserves to be killed. Take this male aggression out of the bull-fighting arena and you will see it all around the world, and it is cheered on when it is seen in leaders who belittle the "bad" guy or teach them a lesson. You might say that the animalistic side of human nature that wants blood, revenge and wants to take a victory lap and be applauded for such is captured.

The matador believe he is incredibly courageous ("you've got balls bigger than this stadium"), and his worth comes from this dance of death. I do not support and encourage aggression or bullying, so this was an insight into an atavism of male aggression that is celebrated in Spain in the bullfighting arena, and is perhaps representative of the bloody history of the country as well (the inquisition, the conquistadors killing many in the Americas in the name of their King and God). So, indirectly, Serra might be showing us a part of the soul of Spain and its still preserved rituals based on violence and aggression that are still celebrated.

A fine documentary about the world of bullfighting showing the reality of the bullfight, displayng colorful images and stunning close-ups of the two contenders in rhe ring: the torero and the Bull. It exposes the intimate experience of the bullfighter, his religiosity, and adoration of the Virgin Mary, his sacrifice and path to fame, his rites of dress and suit of lights, along with the assumption of the risk of facing a deadly duel as a personal duty, following a tradition that has been sustained por centuries. In fact, bullfighting, as an art form has already been profusely painted and praised by prestigious artists such as Goya, Picasso, Rafael Alberti, and many others. The director himself -who is not a bullfighting enthusiast- said he wanted to film it seriously and objectively, representing an aesthetic challenge for him. He attempts to accept it as it is, and show it in all its rawness and reality, including the gushing blood, as toro as toreador, and the harshness of the Plaza. According to some bullfighting critics, he is credited for portraying that world as it is, the naked truth.

The documentary faithfully portrays the splendid figure of the great bullfighter, Andrés Roca Rey as he faces the bull. His face , his grimaces, his face, as well as bull's bravery with its tirelessness in confronting the opponent in order to gore him. And it definitively shows a certain admiration that develops between bullfighter and beast. According to the director, there was a commmitment of the highest level on the part of the toreador Roca Rey. He states the film has not generated controversy or international rejection and is interesting in its own right as an anthropological document. The movie develops a beauty that emerges intermittently through a violent struggle between a man and a beast, both confronting each other to the death, one with his sword and the other with its sharp horns, a confrontation between animality brutality and human racionality.

Winner of the Golden Shell at the 2024 San Sebastián Film Festival, this documentary film, written and directed by Albert Serra, hypnotically and soberly immerses us into the world of Peruvian bullfighter Andrés Roca Rey. The film patiently and meticulously observes his profession, his rituals, his subtle gestures, his silence, and his constant exposure to danger-all under a contemplative gaze that avoids both glorification and judgment.

The title feels very fitting, as it not only reflects the symbolic confrontation between man and beast but also suggests a broader reflection on vulnerability, tradition, and death. Serra does not indulge in absolute idealization of the bullfighter: he also gives space to the bull, observing it with respect, turning it into another character one that, as always, is destined to perish.

This is something many bullfighting films forget or evade: here, the animal is not just an obstacle or a symbol but a real, living creature that breathes, feels, and suffers. And this balance is the documentary's greatest strength it is neither pro-bullfighting nor anti-bullfighting. It inhabits a neutral, contemplative space where the viewer can admire the bullfighter while simultaneously questioning the nature of this "spectacle."

The cinematography is stunning-every shot is meticulously crafted, pulling you into its hypnotic rhythm. The nearly silent narration, wrapped in immersive sound design, places us in the bullring, in the dressing room as he suits up, in the pre- and post-fight conversations. The first half felt visually and emotionally powerful, while the second half becomes somewhat repetitive. Trimming about 15 minutes could have made it more accessible to general audiences.

Still, this is a valuable, provocative, and beautifully ambiguous documentary.

In summary, Albert Serra delivers a hypnotic and respectful documentary that portrays bullfighter Roca Rey without mythologizing him while also giving a voice to the bull. The film observes without judgment, with austere, intimate, and sonorous direction. Though its second half falls into repetition, its neutral and contemplative gaze makes it a provocative and unusual work.

The movie is very repetitive and shows gruesome images of bulls being tortured to death. Over and over again. The main character gets praised for his "balls of steel", but obviously has some kind of deathwish. You can't help but question why this still happens today. You can't speak of a documentary, because it doesn't explain anything. Nothing about the history or the culture behind it, let alone the controversy around it. What I did get from the movie is the exhilarating feeling a torero must feel standing so close to an animal that dangerous. But I couldn't see past the stupidity of the practice to begin with. If you want to see this movie, only 30 minutes is enough. The rest is more of the same. There is better stuff to be seen.