Cannes Review: The Mysterious Gaze of the Flamingo is a profoundly moving queer drama.

      As reminders that ignorance, bigotry, and hatred can have deadly consequences, narratives about the AIDS epidemic remain crucially relevant. A recent and poignant example comes from Chilean writer-director Diego Céspedes, whose feature debut, The Mysterious Gaze of the Flamingo, premiered in the Un Certain Regard section at Cannes. Though the film may miss a narrative beat or two to fully soar, it is nonetheless a beautifully crafted, profoundly moving tribute to love and community—a piece of art that is unapologetically and vibrantly queer.

      Set in 1982, the story unfolds in a remote desert town in northern Chile, where not much occurs except at the local canteen, where miners interact with a troupe of cross-dressing entertainers, including the charismatic Flamingo (Matías Catalán). Flamingo's 12-year-old daughter, Lidia (Tamara Cortés), faces bullying from neighborhood boys who blame her mother and other "perverts" from the canteen for the "Plague"—a mysterious, incurable illness making the townsfolk gravely ill. Feeling frightened and powerless, the community believes the cross-dressers are spreading the Plague through their eyes. When a former lover of Flamingo disrupts a gathering, asking the ailing star performer to lift his curse, it triggers events that leave Lidia under the protection of canteen owner Boa (Paula Dinamarca), who pledges to safeguard her and the other girls from external threats.

      Few of us can envision the lives of gay men in rural Chile during the '80s, but Céspedes effectively transports us back to that time. In the film’s meticulously crafted first act, he recreates a haven of love as AIDS panic began to emerge in that part of the world. The desert setting and extravagant costumes are infused with vivid, era-appropriate details. More significantly, he portrays a close-knit community of individuals living authentically and without apology, taking each other in as daughters, mothers, and sisters to form a chosen family before the term even existed. When Lidia is bullied, her aunties rally around Flamingo to teach the boys a lesson. During chaotic moments, the group finds solace in dancing within the confines of their home. With no means to fight the virus or combat stigma, their only defense is each other.

      A poignant moment occurs when a visibly ill and weary Flamingo attempts to comfort Lidia, pulling her into a slow dance while a sweet old song plays softly. The image of their shared solace, briefly escaping their burdens, resonates deeply, making one ponder how anyone could condemn their love simply because the girl affectionately refers to the man holding her as mother.

      The second act plunges into crisis, as the reality of homophobic violence escalates, and a frightened town resorts to extreme measures against the cross-dressers and their supposed “dangerous eyes.” While filmed with fluidity and accompanied by striking visuals, there is a sense that this aspect could have been explored further—one feels the consequences faced by Flamingo are not sufficiently addressed, and Boa's journey to finding love seems somewhat hurried. Despite these minor flaws, Céspedes concludes the film on a poignant, heart-wrenching note. For Lidia, a new chapter looms ahead, but with the three little words she whispers in the final shot, it becomes clear that those lost will always be remembered.

      The Mysterious Gaze of the Flamingo is visually and audibly stunning. Kudos to DP Angello Faccini for capturing the warmth and vibrance of the canteen sisterhood against a backdrop of desolate landscape and pervasive hostility. Florencia Di Concilio’s score effectively highlights the contrast between bonds forged in love and the cold hatred they face. The impactful final shot is just one of many that delivers a significant emotional resonance, enhanced by its visual and auditory presentation.

      All three lead performances are remarkable. Catalán vividly brings to life the passionate and determined Flamingo. Dinamarca imbues the matriarch Boa with charming levity and resolute dignity. Cortés, as Lidia, the young observer of both kindness and cruelty in an incomprehensible world, delivers a thoughtfully calibrated performance that reflects a profound understanding of her character.

      In a world where the queer way of life—and otherness in general—continues to face threats, stories that enhance our empathy will always be timely. The need for new queer filmmakers is ever-present. With The Mysterious Gaze of the Flamingo, Céspedes has demonstrated both his filmmaking abilities and a grasp of his story's importance; you can sense the fervent indignation in every frame.

      The Mysterious Gaze of the Flamingo premiered at the 2025 Cannes Film Festival.