Cannes Review: In The Beloved, Javier Bardem and Victoria Luengo Create Intriguing Chemistry While Facing Their Past.

      There exists a pantheon of skilled film directors, like Guido Anselmi and Ferrand, whose names are not widely recognized. However, you are familiar with their films, such as 8½ and Day for Night. Esteban Martínez (Javier Bardem at his most raw since Iñárritu’s Biutiful), the main character in Rodrigo Sorogoyen’s latest film, The Beloved, surely fits the profile of the greatest non-existent auteurs. Echoing Joachim Trier’s Sentimental Value, this movie offers less and ultimately provides more than anticipated—yet another exploration of familial conflicts and the significance of art in their lives.

      Sorogoyen captures our attention immediately, launching his film with a striking, 20-minute scene focused solely on the dialogue between its two central characters. When Esteban reconnects with his estranged daughter, Emilia (Victoria Luengo), the atmosphere is thick with tension and uncertainty. Like Skarsgård’s Gustav Borg, Esteban was destined for greatness, but it has cost him dearly, including the vital love of his daughter. It's no surprise that the ‘theater of masks’ is quickly introduced—it will take time for them to shed their facades. Using a straightforward shot-reverse technique, Sorogoyen amplifies the discomfort lurking behind their forced smiles. With each cut, the camera slowly closes in on them, making the close-ups feel even more striking, as if Sorogoyen is striving to penetrate their souls.

      “How are you?” “Bien.” And you? “Bien.” How's life? “Bien.” “Bien,” “bien,” “bien”––this single Spanish word travels back and forth like throwing knives at a circus's opening night. Its constant repetition conveys everything about their relationship, and then some. Up to this point, their small talk seems insipid, highlighting how distant they have been from one another over the years. Even when Esteban inquires about her mother (who also used to be an actress), whom he left after their first film together, her response is yet another solitary “bien.”

      Despite being from two different worlds, Bardem and Luengo create an undeniable on-screen chemistry. With each gesture, the characters' estrangement resonates; with every “bien,” the underlying sorrow surfaces; with each trivial comment, the tension becomes apparent. Both are aware of it, so after a few minutes, Esteban gets straight to the point. “What do you know about the conflict in the Western Sahara?” he asks, a question you wouldn't typically expect from a father during a reunion.

      Both Esteban, the director, and Esteban, the father, want her to play the lead in his new historical film. For Emilia, it’s a rather unexpected request. She is an actress who has put her Hollywood dreams on hold and now works as a waitress. Her life is stressful: she removes her sweater and orders a glass of red wine right after finishing her first beer. “I’m gonna be tough,” Esteban declares. As you might guess, this isn’t the last time we will witness Bardem’s darker side in The Beloved. However, Emilia smiles gently, her excitement bubbling beneath the surface.

      This exchange encapsulates everything about them. One seeks reconciliation, while the other is poised to rebel against the world, nursing a bruised ego. They recall past moments differently, like the time they went to see the second Kill Bill. Esteban remembers it as a warm bonding experience, but his daughter disagrees (“You showed up drunk and high”). Memories aren’t reliable; they are filled with painful fractures. This is the very reason old wounds re-bleed, and they come close to a confrontation, yet Emilia accepts her father’s proposition. Her curiosity and longing for her father ultimately outweigh her resentment. It takes them only sixteen minutes to have their first argument. This clash ends in a stalemate, but the second round will soon begin—this time on the set of Esteban’s film.

      Sorogoyen presents a keen ability to observe his characters from the sidelines. As they start filming, we follow Esteban and Emilia through the eyes of the film set, its crew, and the numerous equipment, causing The Beloved to shift its style or use varying visual aesthetics, including black-and-white scenes. Each perspective offers a different impact, enabling viewers to see the same characters in entirely new shades. In this way, Sorogoyen prefers to highlight the filmmaking process, emphasizing the human element rather than the finished product. Sure, the pressure escalates, and Esteban is far from being compassionate, yet he aims to seek redemption for his past. Emilia, despite everything, is her father’s daughter. She continuously gives, recognizing that such an opportunity may not come again for either of them.

      The director of the acclaimed The Beasts is more focused on the father-daughter dynamics than the Sahara project they are involved in. Take, for