El cielo dividido

The unique film "Broken Sky" is an invitation to a different world, a quiet and dreamlike place where only love seems to hold any importance. The characters Gerardo and Jonas inhabit this private world, and no one else matters. Filmed in beautiful gold and brown shades, the two Mexican boys fall in love at first sight. The two are so in sync with each other that they barely need words to communicate their feelings. It seems things could not be more ideal for these two guys, until outside influences and doubt threaten to destroy their perfect, untainted love. "El Cielo Dividido" is not really a mainstream film; there is virtually no dialog, and the production moves along like a slow, hypnotic dance, rather than the typical fast pace of todays cinema. There has rarely been a film that so effectively creates it's own world, and it is a world filled with beauty and romance and sadness, a world that i personally was reluctant to leave at the film's end. Actors Miguel Angel Hoppe and Fernando Arroyo are both beautiful and utterly believable as the confused lovers, overwhelmed by intense feelings that are so new to them. Unique especially for "gay cinema" is this film's subtlety. The nudity and sexuality is not aggressively splashed across the screen to shock or titillate the viewer. It is simply there, and it is all a part of this private world of the two lovers. Best of all, "Broken sky" manages to recreate the feelings of first time love and sexual awakening like few films have managed. This is far from the typically flashy and garishly silly style of most gay films. Thankfully, there are no gay stereotypes to be found here; this is a film about love, and nothing more. "Broken Sky" is a unique and beautiful film.

In Mexico this movie, presented as part of the Muestra International de Cine 2006, a cinema tour that goes to every state nationwide, was really disappointing. The director seems to understand the dilemma surrounding gay relationships but fails in the use of an expressive formal language to communicate the narrative elements. Movements and gestures were the basic conductors in this story but in order to keep intensity of emotions within the public actors seem to have troubles while expressing them due to whether a bad direction or lack of experience. At some point, the film appeared to me as a choreography set up for stage and to be performed by dancers. It lasts more than 2 hours which I consider very long and exhausting for people to keep attention on it.

This could have been the gay counterpart to Gone With The Wind given its epic lenght, but instead it satisfied itself by being a huge chain of empty episodes in which absolutely nothing occurs. The characters are uni-dimensional and have no other development in the story (there's actually no story either) than looking for each other and kissing. It's a shame that an interesting aesthetic proposition like having almost no dialog is completely wasted in a film than makes no effort in examining the psychology of its characters with some dignity, and achieving true emotional resonance. On top of that, it pretends to be an "art" film by using the worst naive clichés of the cinematic snobbery. But anyway, if someone can identify with its heavy banality, I guess that's fine.

I guess it's not surprising that this film received mixed reviews. I knew when I saw it that it would not be for everyone. I have to say though that I really loved this film and would gladly see it again, particularly to share it with someone I care for.

I think you have to just sit back, relax and let this film wash over you. The best way for me to describe it is as a beautiful poem about love, particularly young love. It conveys all the thrill and excitement, the confusion and pain, the jealousy and longing...really all the emotions one experiences from first love. Rather than words, however, this poem is composed of pictures and music and ambient sound. Like a poem it isn't always straightforward, you don't always understand every moment, but the feelings that it evokes are strong and genuine, and it captures universals in a way that a more specific, narrative film never could.

The director has said that the reason there is so little dialogue is that the moments he chose to capture were the ones between the dialogue; before the characters felt the need to speak, and after they had said all there was to say. What's amazing is how illuminating those moments are when one chooses to pay attention to them.

In the context of this film I'm not sure what the phrase "gratuitous male nudity" means. Although I know it never happens in the U.S., in other countries people get naked. It's part of life. It's certainly part of the relationship that this film is all about, and to show it, unceremoniously, as part of the fabric of a life and a relationship can hardly be described as "gratuitous".

I guess the best compliment I can pay this film is to say that I am still thinking and talking about it, weeks after seeing it. The camera work, the composition, the use of sound and music, and the contribution of the young stars, all contribute to the film's success. If you enjoy film-making as an art form, I'd highly recommend you seek out this film.

'El Cielo dividido' (BROKEN SKY) is a daring, experimental film from Mexican writer/director Julián Hernández and as such it is bound to polarize audiences. Some will fault the film for self-indulgence while others will praise the bravery of a film of this topic to come from a country not exactly known for its flexible social attitudes.

Julián Hernández focuses on the history of a first love and without using dialogue he tells his story simply with silent actors, minimal narrative comments which serve as program notes, music, and ravishingly beautiful photographic composition. Gerardo (Miguel Ángel Hoppe) opens the film, a solo youth wandering what appears to be the streets of Mexico City finally ending up in an open amphitheater where his eye glimpses another lone youth Jonas (Fernando Arroyo) sitting staring into space. Gerardo wanders over to him, sits beside him, gains the courage to touch his shoulder, Jonas responds glowingly - and love begins. Through the next scenes we find the couple making love both in bed and in unexpected public places including the stacks of the library of the school where they both are students -and where another pair of eyes enters: Sergio (Alejandro Rojo) watches longingly as Gerardo and Jonas kiss and display an aura of passion Sergio obviously longs for.

The new couple share many experiences, all bathed in love, until they eventually go to a disco: Jonas dances with an enchanted Bruno (Ignacio Pereda) and a trace of chemistry is generated, a fact that Gerardo, watching the boys dance, senses and is disturbed. A crack is created in their bliss and that crack only widens as they each have mixed responses to what they perceive is escaping. Gerardo encounters the winsome Sergio and the two bond physically, a fact that forces Jason to reevaluate his initial feelings for Gerardo.

All of this story is told without dialogue of words but with a very strong dialogue of eyes. Director Hernández seems to want to share how love is an internalized emotion, only demonstrated with physical intimacy, but fragile as a newborn in its vulnerability to wounds. Cinematographer Alejandro Cantú finds stunning settings and lighting and sensitive explorations of love making that never exceed tasteful states. His manner of showing time elapsing is to pan walls within a room that serve as flashbacks and flash-forwards as a means of carrying the story forward. Film editor Emiliano Arenales Osorio uses some very creative techniques to keep the viewer guessing as to whether we are observing fact, fantasy, present or past. And the musical score by Arturo Villela deftly maintains the minimalist stance with simple phrases by cello, harpsichord, and violin, saving the passion expression for the use of Dvorák in Rusalka's 'Song to the Moon' as ravishingly sung by Renée Fleming All of those praises being said, the major reason this film doesn't retain an audience base is its length: it is 140 minutes long, repetitive, and would have been much more powerful had it been cut to 90 minutes at best. It is far too visually stunning a piece of work to step beyond the patience of an audience happy to see the birth and blossoming and challenges of a first love between two beautiful young men. The actors are indeed a pleasure to watch, but in this case less is more. One wonders what Julián Hernández will create next. He deserves applause for this experimental film but hopefully will learn from its tendency toward self-indulgence. Grady Harp