El Príncipe

A young man, apparently having committed a shocking murder in a nightclub, is sent to prison in 1970's Chile. The prison is small and filthy, with men sharing beds, and homosexuality so rife it may as well be a gay bar.

The young man, known as "the Prince", is chosen to replace another youth in the bed of "the Stallion", apparently the master of this domain. He is immediately sexually assaulted by "the Stallion" - at least it appeared as such to me. This brutal beginning to their relationship doesn't stop romance from blossoming, strangely enough.

Interspersed are flashbacks to the friendship the Prince shared with a young man known as the Gypsy, which eventually led to the pivotal violence. There is also a bizarre sequence where Prince apparently has sex with his own mother (?).

This could have been an effective story, but the constant focus on sex makes it feel more like pornography, even down to the nonchalant attitude toward sexual assault. You don't see enough of the characters to get a feel for who they're supposed to be, and you certainly don't care about the protagonist.

Pedestrian adaptation of the only novel written by Mario Cruz, a little-known work from the 1970s (which I don't know, so I cannot talk about it). The result is a melodrama of sex between inmates, with clichéd situations and lots of nudity, sodomy and erections, and with allusions to the days of Salvador Allende, just because: you just change the bell-bottoms and it can be anytime, anywhere.

The worst is the ill-advised choice of Alfredo Castro as The Stallion, who changes partners at his whim and seduces the young inmate that has just arrived in his cell. Castro is a good actor... but a "stallion"...? It would have been more convincing if the character's name was "Old Goat". Gastón Pauls would have seem a better choice for the role.

P. S. The film includes the last film performance by the beautiful Lucas Balmaceda as El Rucio, before becoming Lux Pascal, equally pretty.

"The Prince" (El Príncipe) is a Chilean prison drama by Sebastián Muñoz. 2019.

Leone Queer, Venice Film Festival, 2019.

Chile, 1970.

While outside this Chilean prison in the 1970s, when Salvador Allende's government was about to take office, heterosexuality was mandatory, in the prison described here, the exact opposite is true: between Jaime and El Potro, a "black" love relationship develops, as they called it in prisons at the time. Once he becomes El Príncipe, Jaime discovers that prison is a world based on power relations but also on tenderness and loyalty.

Paradoxically, the confinement and the surrounding homoeroticism allow him to reveal himself despite the stifling violence. He will experience the love he was unable to experience in freedom.

It's therefore a love melodrama set in a prison setting, but a story of strong men that shows the rise of a man in love with himself, empty and wild, capable of dragging others into his self-idolatry.

In this place cut off from the rest of the world, love and death resonate like tangos and guitars.

Passion, where homosexuality isn't even an option, is a way of life, full of skin, fears, and pain. The law of the strongest prevails between grunts and strong embraces and whispers that pass from mouth to mouth.

Some critics mention the director's excessive depiction of homosexual relationships, masturbation, and male genitalia. This choice is influenced by the tone and the narrative. They are not gratuitous: the three sex scenes illustrate important aspects of the story.

A prison story for very macho males who purr like cats. It's reminiscent of Querelle.

The director, whose debut film this is, has a long career as an art director, and it's evident from the very first shot: a pool of blood flowing from a severed neck, which we follow all the way to the killer's shoes.

The narrative perspective is interesting: prison drama is already abundantly represented in cinema, so why not give someone the freedom to focus on other human facets of what can happen there?

The pace is brisk, and the performances could make many Oscar winners jealous.

The ending, which some consider predictable, is simply coherent.

A violent and brutal coming-of-age story.

Good cinema.

#henrimesquida #gaycinemaandliterature.

This movie is powerful and just brings you everything from tears and heartbreak to some serious wish fulfillment. Showing people who aren't 'good' by anyone's standards, but a real insight into the way crimes come from a place of pain and feeling like you're the only one alone and not accepted.

This is a surprising work of art. It is different. It has elements that make you go, "what the heck" and others that are endearing. When you are watching this you will be taken through a ride. You will ask yourself questions concerning elements of rape and homosexuality in prison. For one this is unlike prisons like we know them. I guess it is how love evolve. It is how one falls in love in prison.

Without giving many elements away, it is about jealous. It is about falling for a beautiful boy. It is about versatility and a cat. There is chant in the movie which surprised me. It is artistic in some aspect. The reaction of the prince after seeing the subject of his affecting getting it on with a girl, was surprising but relevant. What does this action mean? What does rolling in the dirt mean? It is raw in its depiction of certain emotions. It is quiet in others. You never know will happen in the next frame.

I applaud the choice of the depictions of the scenes and reactions of the characters and the audience. It is about being empowered especially in the last scene. It is about moving on. It is about carrying the mantle.

It is the 70 and so the fashion says a lot and it is quite nostalgic.