Gael Garcia Bernal shines as pioneering Luchador – The Hollywood Reporter

Gael García Bernal lands his best role in years, delivering a performance steeped in cheeky humor, resilience and sweeping self-confidence – not to mention incredibly agile moves – as groundbreaking lucha libre wrestler Saúl Armendáriz in Cassandra. Veteran documentarian Roger Ross Williams, who portrayed Armendáriz in 2016 for the Amazon series The New Yorker presentsmakes a confident transition to narrative features with this entertaining biopic, which doubles as a gorgeous depiction of mother-son love and an exhilarating exploration of fearless queer identity in a macho setting.

While Williams (Life, Anime) and co-writer David Teague (who adapted Ta-Nehesi Coates Between the world and me for HBO) gropes lightly at the end, it’s a film with a huge heart, a vivid immersion in its culturally specific milieu, and a celebratory admiration for its flamboyant subject matter, whose images both in and out of the ring adorn the credits of end. It is expected to prove popular with LGBTQ viewers and the general public when it begins streaming globally on Amazon early this year.

Right from the start, director, cinematographer Matías Penachino, set designer JC Molina and costume designer Mariestela Fernández offer a seductive insight into this very particular world of sport as a theatrical spectacle, attended by rowdy crowds who don’t hesitate. not yelling homophobic taunts at luchadors.

It makes Saúl de Bernal a defiant figure of pride as the American-born Mexican struts the streets of the border town of Ciudad Juárez, where he regularly passes from El Paso to take part in lucha libre fights, or free wrestling. He shows no concern for hiding his sexuality, unlike his married boyfriend and fellow luchador Gerardo (Raúl Castillo), who fights as El Comandante. We learn that Saúl came out at 15, alienating his religious father Eduardo (Robert Salas), who had been in a semi-clandestine relationship with his mother Yocasta (Perla de la Rosa) despite being married.

Seemingly because of his small size compared to the hulking bullies he faces, Saúl struggles as El Topo (the Mouse). But he is frustrated by his heavyweight opponents’ lack of poetry and the rote expectation that he will lose every fight, reconfirming the physical supremacy of the hyper-masculine Neanderthal. That changes when he forges a connection with a new coach, Sabrina (Roberta Colindrez), known on the lucha circuit as “Lady Anarquía.” She suggests that there is more than one way to fight without being the runt, suggesting that he tries to compete as an “exótico”, or drag wrestler.

Saúl is not very convincing. Inspired by Mexican actress Verónica Castro, as well as his mother’s taste for industrial-strength makeup and flashy animal-print outfits, he created Cassandro, taking his new professional name from a favorite telenovela.

From the moment Cassandro steps into the ring for the Spanish-language cover of Celia Cruz’s “I Will Survive,” it’s clear a star has been born. Unlike some of the more floaty Exóticos, who are strictly fun characters, Cassandro remains an unapologetic gay man, drawing power from the insults of the audience as his in-ring ability turns cat squeals into cheers.

Cassandro loses his first fight against the aptly named Gigantico (one of the few actual lucha stars in the film), but his ability to put out several highly competitive rounds with an opponent twice his size earns him respect. He also catches the eye of sleazy promoter Lorenzo (Joaquín Cosío), who assigns his handsome young henchman Felipe (Benito Antonio Martinez Ocasio, better known as Puerto Rican rapper Bad Bunny) to take care of Saúl’s needs. It gives a pleasant flirtation.

What gives the film – and Bernal’s wonderful performance – such an infectious kick is the way Cassandro’s confidence grows, along with his jubilant theatrics and the elaborate glitz of his wrestling outfits, but also the way it informs the way Saúl presents himself to the world. In typically mischievous dialogue during a post-coital pillow talk with Gerardo, he describes Cassandro as someone very different from himself: “I think Cassandro could be a top.”

While this relationship is constrained by its secrecy, the scenes between Bernal and the always formidable Castillo are both sexy and melancholic. Saúl desperately wants an official boyfriend, but Gerardo refuses to break up his family, but not without regret and envy.

The other key relation that gives Cassandra her luminous warmth sits between Saúl and Yocasta, who is almost more of a drag-sister than a mother. Their closeness is evident in every intimate moment they share, happy or sad. While she has always avoided going to his lucha fights for fear of seeing him hurt, she begins attending once Cassandro is born, joy spreading across her pretty face as he wraps the crowd around of his little finger. The camaraderie between Saúl and Sabrina, who reads as queer even though her sexuality is never stated, gives their allegiance another layer of togetherness.

It’s worth noting that Bernal’s chemistry with these three important characters in Saúl’s life – beautifully played by Castillo, De la Rosa and Colindrez – is effortless, natural and lovingly drawn. The emotional depth of her performance is matched by her transformative physicality. The actor is in fantastic shape, compact and chunky, full of quick moves as he bounces off the ropes or the mat like a human pinball machine. Bernal also captures a fundamental part of Cassandro’s personality in the radiant joie de vivre he finds as a performer.

Teague and Williams’ storyline is slightly weaker in exploring a central conflict, once Cassandro becomes a subversive force, overturning the set-in-stone lucha rulebook that says the effeminate exotico must always lose to the “real man”. That aspect made Armendáriz a revolutionary figure in the sport — and in queer athletic empowerment — but it ruffled feathers among traditionally macho competitors. As described here, it amounts to a bit of whispered resentment, foreshadowing a drama that just doesn’t happen.

It’s also one of those films in which there are two or three different points that seem like ideal endings, somewhat diluting the poignancy of each one. But that doesn’t make the whole takeout less satisfying.

The climactic bout takes place in a crowded stadium in Mexico City, with Saúl taking on El Hijo del Santo (Son of Santo), a famous champion whose father was a legendary lucha star before him. There is also personal significance in Saúl’s memories of watching matches featuring the original Santo on television with his father as a young boy. A scene at the end of the film in which Saúl is a guest on Son of Santo’s talk show and a teenage audience member reveals that the wrestler’s courage inspired him to date his father is a bit obvious but moving nonetheless. .

Williams’ documentary background infuses courage and authenticity into the setting, as do the rich textures of Penachino’s images, particularly the frequent nighttime scenes. And fabulous vintage bangers like Blondie’s “Call Me” and Baccara’s “Yes Sir, I Can Boogie” turn Cassandro’s grand entrances into moments of triumph before the fights even begin. Armendáriz served as a consultant on the film; its creators have made it proud.