Tender and emotional, yet full of humour and heart, Maspalomas, screening at BFI London Film Festival, is an intimate and exquisitely performed, written and directed character study that proudly proclaims you are never “past it” as a gay man, no matter what life may throw at you.
Do gay men have a problem with getting old? It is an interesting question. I have lost count of the times I have heard gay men in their 40s and 50s say, “I’m past it.” In truth, you are never “past it” unless you convince yourself that is the case. However, it is also true that we live in a world where youth and beauty reign supreme, and many gay men fear that older age will push them back into the closet that they fought to escape. It is also true that gay men don’t help themselves or each other in perpetuating those fears.
In a refreshing, beautifully written and performed rebuff to the idea that any gay man is “past it”, directors Aitor Arregi and José Mari Goenaga celebrate older gay life, while tenderly yet powerfully exploring the challenges all LGBTQ+ people face when they enter the care system due to illness or emergency in Maspalomas.
Vicente, played by the wonderful José Ramón Soroiz, is in his 70s, and for the first half of his life, he was confined to a closet. Like many in his generation, he hid his sexuality and married, and when he came out, his relationship with his wife and young daughter ended, as did his life in San Sebastian.
Vicente married again, but this time it was to a younger man named Esteban, and for many years, he was happy as they lived the ultimate gay life in the party capital of Maspalomas. However, his marriage is now over, and he is back on the market. It is fair to say that Vicente has no intention of holding back in his search for fun and possibly more, encouraged by his closest friend, also in his seventies. However, there’s such a thing as too much of a good thing, as Vicente is about to discover when he has a stroke in a dark room surrounded by fit, muscular men.
Suddenly, Vicente’s gay life in Maspalomas is over, as he finds himself admitted to a care home back in San Sebastian, arranged by the daughter he hasn’t spoken to since she was a teenager, Nerea (Nagore Aranburu). His strength is gone, as is his dignity and independence. But something else has gone too, his pride and sense of security as a gay man.
His new roommate, the vivacious Xanti (Kandido Uranga), is loud, brash, and proudly right-wing, everything Vicente is not. So, Vicente, out of choice, locks himself back in the closet, throwing away the key, even refusing phone calls from his best friend in Maspalomas; after all, it’s not like he can live his gay life in a care home in the city he fled years before. Even when Vicente is assigned a young, chatty, and supportive carer who is gay, Iñaki (Kepa Errasti), he sabotages the relationship, demanding someone else. Yet, in private, he isn’t ready to completely shed his old gay life.
As Vicente’s road to recovery begins, the man he initially thought would be his nemesis, Xanti, becomes his closest friend, aiding his recovery with his indomitable spirit. Yet Vicente remains firmly in the closet, much to the confusion of his daughter, who is slowly getting to know her father again. But as reports of a new virus, named COVID-19, begin to appear on television, and Vicente’s independence grows, he faces two questions. To stay or to go? And to come out, again or remain in the closet forever?
At the heart of this tender, funny, and emotional tale of rehabilitation, reconciliation, and rebirth is the outstanding and nuanced performance of José Ramón Soroiz, who is front and centre in almost every scene in Arregi and Goenaga’s 35mm-shot gem. Soroiz beautifully captures the inner turmoil, sadness, and uncertainty of Vicente’s sudden and jarring loss of independence as he steps back into the San Sebastian closet from which he escaped years before. Yet he also captures the humour, strength and heart of a man thrust into the most challenging journey of his life: rehabilitation. Here, Vicente’s relationship with Xanti takes centre stage, as an unlikely bond of support and platonic love emerges between both men, one that ultimately saves Vicente and aids his emergence from the cocoon he has confined himself to.
However, while Vicente and Xanti’s relationship is beautifully framed, Arregi and Goenaga are less assured in exploring themes of reconciliation and healing in the relationship between Vicente and his daughter, which is a pity, given the narrative’s overarching strength. Equally undeveloped is Vicente’s realisation that he has a grandson, who he has never seen, a grandson who doesn’t even know his name. These under-explored elements of Vicente’s journey feel like a missed opportunity in exploring how his past formed the present and influences the future as he ‘comes out’ again, this time with more confidence and self-awareness than before.
Despite these weaknesses, Maspalomas, like Todd Stephens’ 2021 film Swan Song, is a delight as it explores older gay life and the challenges of maintaining one’s identity and soul when faced with a sudden change that renders one vulnerable. Tender and emotional, yet full of humour and heart, Maspalomas is an intimate and exquisitely performed, written and directed character study that proudly proclaims you are never “past it” as a gay man, no matter what life may throw at you.
Maspalomas is screening at BFI London Film Festival and is awaiting a UK-wide release date.
Follow Us