Victoria Luengo and Javier Bardem shine in Sorogoyen's (too) metafilmic drama

Beyond the talent for orchestrating action scenes – in the film As bestas and the series Antidisturbios–, the filmmaker from Madrid Rodrigo Sorogoyen usually builds his sharp existential odysseys around intimate sequences loaded with dramatic density and attention to detail. Following this pattern, El ser querido opens with a lengthy and vibrant encounter between a father (Javier Bardem), a successful film director, and his daughter (Victoria Luengo), whom he hasn't seen in thirteen years and who offers her the leading role in his new film. In itself, this scene, filmed in close-ups from a distance, offers everything an demanding viewer could ask for: writing of the highest precision, eloquent silences, echoes of John Cassavetes and Ingmar Bergman, and a duo of actors in a state of grace.

After the impeccable first act, the study of the tense relationship between a father with a murky past and a resentful daughter moves to the Sahara desert, where the filming of the film within the film takes place. And here, tempted by the meta-cinematic component, Sorogoyen makes the risky decision to turn El ser querido into a treatise on cinematic artifice. The image jumps from color to black and white, there are changes in format, and the sound rises and falls to privilege the characters' sensations. This analytical dimension never quite succeeds and ends up becoming a distraction for the development of the narrative.

Finally, beyond the growing formal and dramatic affectation, it must be said that El ser querido contains a very opportune critique of the blind veneration of tormented and narcissistic artists, capable of going over anything to exorcise their afflictions. For this type of cult, we old-school cinephiles must atone with a mea culpa.