DON'T TELL ANYONE (No se lo Digas a Nadie)
Aspect ratio: 1.85:1
Sound format: Dolby Digital
An understanding of the macho culture which underpins Peruvian society is a prerequisite for viewers of Francisco J. Lombardi's DON'T TELL ANYONE, an apparently sanitized version of the bestselling book by chat show host Jaime Bayly. Hot young TV star Santiago Magill (one of the most beautiful actors in the world) plays a deeply conflicted individual who finds himself attracted to other men, a situation which places him at odds with the macho prejudice and god-fearing hypocrisy of his affluent, middle-class parents. Struggling to conform, he encourages the devotions of a sympathetic girlfriend (Lucía Jiménez) who believes she can make him 'normal' again. Inevitably, Magill goes off the rails and forfeits his education before descending into coke-fuelled abandon and fleeing to Miami. Unable to escape his past, he's forced to compromise the very essence of his humanity...
Lombardi's cheerless film shakes an angry fist at the influence of religious doctrine in Peru (revealed here as a sham) and the racism suffered by the country's native Indian population, an anger shared by the movie's central character, who rails against the very same bigotry and oppression which stifles his freedom at every turn. His slide into rebellion makes for uncomfortable viewing (Magill gives a powerhouse performance as the delicate, pretty-boy waif who gravitates toward anarchy and emerges a strong - though embittered - survivor), but it's also faintly predictable, given the terrible circumstances under which he is forced to exist. Magill is pleasingly nude in a number of scenes, though gay viewers may be alarmed by the emphasis placed on his relationship with Jiménez, who thinks he's merely suffering a 'trauma' and can be cured by having sex with a woman (it's no surprise to learn that director Lombardi is straight), while his relationships with men are depicted as fragile and fleeting, primarily because his male partners are under the same societal pressures as himself. Unable to indulge his true sexuality, Magill's character seems doomed to a life of unhappiness and deceit, an approach which distinguishes the film from its feel-good American counterparts. Technical credits are polished, and the cast is exemplary, but it's hard to enjoy this bleak little movie, and even harder to dismiss it.
(Spanish dialogue)
Aspect ratio: 1.85:1
Sound format: Dolby Digital
An understanding of the macho culture which underpins Peruvian society is a prerequisite for viewers of Francisco J. Lombardi's DON'T TELL ANYONE, an apparently sanitized version of the bestselling book by chat show host Jaime Bayly. Hot young TV star Santiago Magill (one of the most beautiful actors in the world) plays a deeply conflicted individual who finds himself attracted to other men, a situation which places him at odds with the macho prejudice and god-fearing hypocrisy of his affluent, middle-class parents. Struggling to conform, he encourages the devotions of a sympathetic girlfriend (Lucía Jiménez) who believes she can make him 'normal' again. Inevitably, Magill goes off the rails and forfeits his education before descending into coke-fuelled abandon and fleeing to Miami. Unable to escape his past, he's forced to compromise the very essence of his humanity...
Lombardi's cheerless film shakes an angry fist at the influence of religious doctrine in Peru (revealed here as a sham) and the racism suffered by the country's native Indian population, an anger shared by the movie's central character, who rails against the very same bigotry and oppression which stifles his freedom at every turn. His slide into rebellion makes for uncomfortable viewing (Magill gives a powerhouse performance as the delicate, pretty-boy waif who gravitates toward anarchy and emerges a strong - though embittered - survivor), but it's also faintly predictable, given the terrible circumstances under which he is forced to exist. Magill is pleasingly nude in a number of scenes, though gay viewers may be alarmed by the emphasis placed on his relationship with Jiménez, who thinks he's merely suffering a 'trauma' and can be cured by having sex with a woman (it's no surprise to learn that director Lombardi is straight), while his relationships with men are depicted as fragile and fleeting, primarily because his male partners are under the same societal pressures as himself. Unable to indulge his true sexuality, Magill's character seems doomed to a life of unhappiness and deceit, an approach which distinguishes the film from its feel-good American counterparts. Technical credits are polished, and the cast is exemplary, but it's hard to enjoy this bleak little movie, and even harder to dismiss it.
(Spanish dialogue)