The wound of sex, according to the most beautiful and disturbing fable by Fernando Franco

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How far is sex? Why sex? What does sex have that it doesn't have, for example, paddle tennis?

And one last thing: what is the reason why sex generates so much '

'?

It is not clear that

film director, had all these more or less stupid questions in mind when he devised the fable, both disturbing and clear,

Nor, by appearance, does it seem that he has ever played paddle tennis.

But the truth is that his approach to the revelation of sex, let's call it that, surprises and disturbs with a question that eats up another question, with an enormous question mark hidden in the boundless eyes of an actress,

bent on chewing enigmas.

It sounds tremendous and, in reality, it is just a tremendous film, tremendous as well as liberating and, hurrying up and in its extreme simplicity, enormous.

The film, which broke into the official section of San Sebastián to discuss everything, confuse everything, wake everyone up, tells the story of a young student who arrives in Madrid to '

' Chemistry.

And the '

' thing is literal: yes, she studies, but what she dedicates the most time to is experimenting in the broadest sense.

Alone, without much money and without having a clear idea of ​​who she is, what she is and what she is like, one fine day she meets another young man with

whom she brings to life with the same integrity as Grace

(it is now, by the way, when the '

' error is appreciated in depth

, the Movistar series is becoming more and more incomprehensible).

And next to her mother: an imperial

Sex, suddenly, admits no conditions.

Sex frees bodies no matter how tortured they are.

There is no more taboo than the one that burns.

What follows is a path of revelation, in its most lyrical version, but it is also, as has been said, sex, in its most obvious meaning, which is also the most confusing.

It is that and it is many other things that are just as indefinite but also exactly as attractive, magnetic, comical, crazy and even uncomfortable.

What it is not, that is irrefutable, is paddle tennis.

The camera is placed next to Sorolla's wide open eyes and with it (or, better, from it) discovers a world;

she experiments with him.

The rigour, precision and depth of Franco's proposal are not incompatible with

that just as tickles as it pricks.

And hurts.

What is told is a journey of discovery that is also a journey of doubt and reconciliation, liberation and surprise, horror and pleasure, sex and sex (twice).

Without a doubt, the result seems to be the most risky and vibrant proposal of all those who have set foot in an official section that is too dedicated to not making mistakes, to not giving anything more than what is asked for.

Note to self: emotion without reflection is populism.

Enma Suarez, Telmo Irureta and Valeria Sorolla, today in San Sebastián.ANDER GILLENEAAFP

As in his dazzling work from 2013, which was also his feature film debut, also presented in San Sebastián, the director insists on reconstructing from the concern of an individual doubt, and if you want an outsider, the exact drawing of something much bigger and that concerns us all.

In

, that was the name of his first film, it was about composing, thanks to

the profile of a disease that begins by being called Borderline Personality Disorder and ends up being called life.

Now, in a kind of almost fortuitous diptych, and from a less tragic place, the idea is to reach the same fever that, in this case, is also a fever.

It was Otto Weininger, a misogynist in addition to many other things (many of them bad), who, before committing suicide, rose up against what he called "the culture of intercourse" in his famous, unclassifiable and provocative book '

.

He lamented that effort to reduce women to the stereotype of the fertilizing energy of man's creativity and discussed that false liberation that consisted, in his opinion, in the simple legal comparison with men.

What had to be done with, always according to him, was motherhood itself, with that "inferior life" determined by biology.

to avoid scares, he does not pretend so much, but he does risk going further, to shake the stereotypes and even the so-called natural or social laws, to question each one of the whys that intrigue us so much about sex and not, for example, about paddle.

It is so.

CINEMA AGAINST THE CLOCKS

At his side, the official section presented, on a day no doubt for joy,

by Colombian

.

The one who was the director of the intense and even runaway, despite her gaps, '

' returns to the very mouth of the wolf with a story of furious grammar, in a style that is not only free but volcanic.

Everything explodes.

Structured like a road movie, the director stops in the desperate lives of five kids with no more assets than her inner desperation.

And from there, she goes downhill in

Rá, Culebro, Sere, Winny and Nano

are street kids from Medellín.

The first of them inherits land from his grandmother, previously expropriated, now returned.

The five will embark on a journey to the promised land, to their impossible Ithaca, whose only argument is the total absence of an argument.

It is a song to disobedience that is also a song to the need to resist.

They live outside the world in a world that long ago lost its very sense of time.

And so.

They say that the workers of the Paris Commune walked the streets shooting at clocks as the ultimate symbol of the fragmentation of life, of exploitation.

counts as the most accurate shot in the very center of the minute hand.

All a prodigy.

There is also sex (not much, but there is).

There is also no paddle.

Lastly,

the same official section presented the Portuguese production '

, by Marco Martins.

The entire film revolves around the idea of ​​a descent into hell in free fall.

And faith that succeeds.

The story takes place three months before Brexit when hundreds of Portuguese workers arrive in the UK to work in turkey meat processing factories.

The place of which the title speaks is a vacation destination, a bird sanctuary and a huge meat grinder in every way imaginable.

Around the figure of its protagonist (a grieving

Martins's proposal traces each of the circles of, let's put it that way, capitalist hell (exploitation, racism, cruelty, dehumanization and humiliation) without considering the possibility of making any concessions no matter how minimal.

But it is not cinema with a social imprint, it is basically dirty cinema, visceral cinema, cinema that hurts.

The result, how could it be otherwise, hurts.

The overly obvious metaphors of the birds bother (those that are free versus the dismembered), irritates that hammering miserabilism, but the result seems so powerful and feverish, that it well deserves, at least, a collective suicide.

It is so.

Merciless without a doubt.

There is also sex, by the way, but it is not recommended.

There is still no news about paddle tennis.

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