Cannes Review: A Poet Offers a Darkly Comic Look at Unsuccessful Creative Aspirations

      Far removed from the sorrowful desires depicted in A Quiet Passion––and even more so from the everyday, soothing rhythms of Paterson––Simón Mesa Soto’s second feature set in Medellín discovers unexpected poetry in the rough, painful agony of shattered dreams and misunderstood, career-ending good intentions. A Poet’s Oscar Restrepo (Ubeimar Rios), while 2,000 miles away from the desperate, down-on-their-luck characters often portrayed by Sean Price Williams’ lens, would find acknowledgment in the shared Sisyphean struggle of failing at each opportunity life presents. This Un Certain Regard jury prize winner serves as a darkly humorous, cautionary character study about allowing long-buried creative aspirations to dictate every choice––one where Soto often finds compassion as his protagonist spirals downward.

      Still holding onto the dreams of becoming a celebrated poet––or at least one whose work pays the bills––Restrepo has experienced what seems like a series of self-imposed trials and tribulations, enduring a perpetual mid-life crisis years after early acclaim for his published work. He lives with his mother (Margarita Soto), navigates a tumultuous relationship with his teenage daughter Daniela (Allison Correa), has no bank account (let alone spare change), and spends whatever little he manages to gather to feed his alcoholism. When he gets the chance to share his passion at the local poetry club, it feels as though his peers barely tolerate his eccentricities after years of enduring them. Following pressure from his sister to teach a philosophy class at a nearby school to regain control of his life, he discovers a glimmer of purpose.

      Yurlady (Rebeca Andrade), one of his students, showcases both verbal and artistic talent, prompting Restrepo to mentor her. But does he genuinely believe in her? Is he looking to exploit her talent for personal inspiration? Does he selfishly aspire to be the savior who helps her escape her impoverished circumstances? Or is this new relationship merely a way to ease the pain of his lack of connection with his own daughter? Soto refreshingly avoids providing clear answers, steering away from black-and-white portrayals, and consistently keeping the audience guessing about Restrepo’s potentially questionable motivations. After one particularly disastrous evening, allegations of inappropriate behavior arise, yet Restrepo insists his intentions were noble; this leads to a complex conflict of wills involving Restrepo, Yurlady, her family, his poetry club, and the school administration.

      In what is surprisingly his first acting role, Rios delivers an outstanding performance, displaying decades of regret etched in his weathered, bespectacled face. With a timid demeanor when not buoyed by the false confidence of alcohol, he clearly lacks the public-speaking skills or professional demeanor of his peers, despite dedicating his life to the art of poetry. There’s a defeated sadness in Rios’ eyes that renders his character, in Billy Corgan's words, a "rat in a cage." Shot on lively 16mm by Juan Sarmiento G., the camera remains focused on Restrepo, just as eager as the audience to unravel the mysteries of his desolate existence.

      Rejecting what could have been a bleak, stifling character study, Soto embraces the humor in most circumstances, with swift cuts by editor Ricardo Saraiva highlighting Restrepo’s relentless desperation—from sleeping on the streets after drunken rants about legendary poets to crying in the car to rock ballads while revealing his inner turmoil. He’s the type of manipulative character who promises to help his daughter with college tuition in one moment, only to request five or ten dollars in the next, vowing to repay her.

      This kind of unscrupulous character exploration may challenge the patience of viewers questioning the purpose of watching this sad figure descend deeper into his self-inflicted troubles, and some segments risk feeling repetitive. However, much like the Coens’ treatment of Larry Gopnik nearly fifteen years ago, this is another modern retelling of the Book of Job, revealing an absurdly comedic aspect to such struggles. Ultimately, after a humorously ironic conclusion to his devotion to Yurlady’s talent, Oscar Restrepo may be hapless, but he is not entirely hopeless.

      A Poet had its premiere at the 2025 Cannes Film Festival.