I stumbled upon a little treasure this past week – and it has enthralled me, intrigued me and beguiled me by its quaint charm. El Cielo Dividido (Broken Sky) is Mexican director Julian Hernandez’s second feature film. You would not think so if you watched it.
It is a simple story at its core. A story of two young lovers, who meet each other at university, fall in first lust and love, cannot keep their hands and lips to themselves when with each other, have roaring sexual encounters and fall to temptation of new adventures and watch jealousy and regret corrode a relationship with potential.
So then what’s so special about this film if it boasts the same stale formula? Quite a few reasons, actually.
Significantly, the film treats the homosexuality of young lovers’ Gerardo and Jonas, students of University of Mexico, as a matter of fact. This is no coming of age story or a coming out story. At no time does the film show a third party reaction to the boys’ very demonstrative relationship. Except a little scene when the boys are kissing each other near the garage and the camera slowly pans to show a straight couple walking past holding hands. For me, what appealed is the film’s unapologetic treatment of gay love. Most often, filmmakers use internal and external conflict arising from the protagonist’s sexuality to culture angst; here, the angst arises from the natural foible of first love – the temptation of the what ifs – what if this new person I met in the disco is my spiritual half?
Secondly, there is minimal dialogue - The film is over two hours long and there are probably only about a couple of scores of lines.
What helps is Alejandro Canto's complicated, confusing and utterly captivating cinematography – Canto exploits his lens to reveal viewpoints, the and uses camera spins and pans to move across scenes and gently shows us the evocatively lingering glances that the leads share. Canto and Hernandez are so taken in by the beauty of their leads that they do not make any excuses for the way the lens’ caresses the lead actors – Admittedly, Miguel Angel Hoppe and Fernando Arroyo are delicious to look at but they are also equal to the demands asked of them.
Gerardo and Jonas share a deep passionate relationship and the film’s first third devotes itself to one of the most honest portrayals of simulated sex ever on film. Soon, Jonas strays and is attracted to Bruno (Ignacio Pereda), who he meets one night at the disco, but he is also reluctant to leave Gerardo. The affair ends with Bruno’s sudden disappearance but Jonas cannot shake Bruno from his mind; it is Bruno he thinks of when in a passionate cinch with Gerardo. Frustrated with Jonas’ continued disinterest in him physically, a broken Gerardo begins a series of flings before seeking solace in the arms of college custodian Sergio (Alejandro Rojo). The film stays true to the end with a very ambiguous conclusion.
Fernando Arroyo’s Jonas is dark and intriguing and a perfect foil for the pouty and wide-eyed Miguel Angel Hoppe. Hoppe, especially, conveys the awe and wonder of the first spring of love and later, his eyes eloquently express his heartbreak and frustration.
El Cielo Dividido is less an art film and more of a relentless ballet filled with choreographed moves, gestures and conversations through eyes. It is not easy to watch – you have to dig into your deepest reserves of patience to sit through this silent masterpiece. This is also its worst, perhaps only, flaw. Not many audiences are so kind to indulge the slow passage of thoughts, the careful body movements and the intense back and forth that the leads convey through their eyes. Also, the periodic sex scenes will not interest the straight audiences. There is also an irritating and presumptuous voiceover which talks about love and life – Hernandez could have got rid of this device and added a few more lines for his leads. Understandably, the film did not do well in the US while it was welcomed in Mexico and Europe.
I, for sure, am awaiting Hernandez’s third venture – Rabioso sol, rabioso cielo (Raging Sun, Raging Sky).
