La bola negra – Sydney Film Festival Review
Directors Javier Calvo and Javier Ambrossi, collectively known as Los Javis, are among the most influential creative partnerships in contemporary Spanish entertainment. The duo (who were romantically involved for 13 years until separating in 2025) began collaborating in the early 2010s and first gained widespread recognition with the stage musical La Llamada, a coming-of-age comedy with religious themes that became a major success in Spain. They adapted the musical into the 2017 film of the same name, marking their feature directorial debut.
Following this breakthrough, Los Javis expanded into television. They created and directed the acclaimed series Paquita Salas, which began online before being acquired by Netflix. Beyond directing and writing, both have served as judges and mentors on talent programs and through their work, Los Javis have become leading voices in modern Spanish cinema and television. Their latest collaboration is the Cannes premiering, (and Best Director festival award winner), La Bola Negra – translated “The Black Ball”.
Set in pre-war 1932, mid-Spanish Civil War 1937, and contemporary 2017, the film explores the inter-connected lives of three gay men in a sumptuous historical queer epic that is inspired by La bola negra, an unfinished novel by gay poet Federico García Lorca. Lorca wrote only four pages of the work before being murdered by the fascist Nationalists in 1936, with the title (‘the black ball’) alluding to the form of voter rejection to a young gay man, Carlos (Milo Quifes) when attempting to join a casino in Granada. The film then postures a simple what-if? What if Lorca (Alberto Cortés) had finished the work, given it to his companion, soldier Rafael Rodríguez Rapún (Miguel Bernardeau), who entrusted it with his friend Sebastián (Guitarricadelafuente), who safely hid the work until it could be published by his grandson Alberto (Carlos González).
Whilst admirably ambitious, the three vignettes share, as any large scale epic should, deep thematic connections, but unfortunately an uneven structure occasionally disconnects the film but whenever Los Javis focuses on Guitarricadelafuente’s Sebastián it absolutely shines. It’s powerful to focus on a young gay man, in the midst of trauma and grief after his village is mistakenly attacked by Italian fascist air forces who believe his community are royal sympathisers. He’s reeling from unimaginable loss, and suddenly drafted into the fascist Spanish forces where he becomes the primary guard of soldier Rafael Rodríguez Rapún. The rugged yet wounded fighter awakens a deep desire within Sebastián which becomes ever more tragic as their star-crossed love plays out. Jumping forward 85 years, Sebastián’s estranged gay grandson Alberto is contacted by his grandfather’s estate and eventually comes to learn much about his grandfather which has been concealed from him by his abusive and unstable mother, Teresa (Lola Dueñas).
The film’s cast really is remarkable with memorable appearances from Penélope Cruz as Nené, a singer to soldiers struggling with her artistic freedom in an increasingly authoritarian state and Glenn Close as Isabelle Durand, a Hispanic literature professor who helps Alberto understand the immense impact of his discovery. In his acting debut, Guitarricadelafuente is stunning with moving moments of longing, desire and doubt, whilst Milo Quifes brings tragic life to Carlos, the central character of the play, ‘La Bola Negra’, whose identity is beginning to be challenged in the pre-war Spanish climate.
Another standout aspect of the film is its musicality. Raül Refree’s score is absolutely captivating and perfectly propels the film forward. Additionally, the film’s production value is stunning. From battle-styled recreations of war-torn Spanish villages, to glamorous casinos, clubs and vaudeville shows, with equally gorgeous costuming to suit, to modern settings that remind us of the continued cultural identity of Spain both in its metros and its mountains.
Overall, The Black Ball is a film that impressed me more with its part and themes, then with its ultimate execution. It occasionally feels messy and uneven, but the sheer ambition and scale of storytelling does frequently lead to absolutely breathtaking and emotionally impactful sequences. Its flaws are infrequent in the face of a sweeping epic of Spanish queer history that I’m sure will resonate with many who have felt lost, suppressed or forced to fight to be seen and known.
The Black Ball (La bola negra) screened at the 2026 Sydney Film Festival.
