Heaven and hell, life and death, sinners and saints: they all meet in Gala del Sol’s wild first feature. The story free floats between fantasy, fairy tale and realism, all supported by the topics of redemption and rebirth. If this sounds a little holy, that’s because it is. The Spanish-Colombian filmmaker – who once contemplated becoming a nun – uses Christian faith and iconography as narrative devices. Rooted in Latin American spirituality and inspired by Dante Alighieri’s Dante’s Inferno, she reimagines Catholicism in an extravagant queer context.
The epicentre of queerness is the nightclub Babel. The bar looks deceptively dingy from the outside, yet it’s glamorous behind the closed doors. Those who enter this purgatorial realm are in the world of La Flaca (Saray Rebolledo) – a sparkling impersonation of the Grim Reaper. The many characters whose paths cross here have seemingly grandiose names, and background stories.
Dante (Felipe Aguilar Rodríguez) is bound to La Flaca by a contract from hell, and haunted by scattered memories of his mortal existence. Spectral Monet (Johan Zapata) seeks a fresh body because his corpse is quickly decaying. Jacob (William Hurtado) is a drag-wannabe and the son of a strict preacher. And then there are the star-crossed lovers, Uma (Celina Biurrun) and Timbi (Jose Mojica), who hope to save Timbi’s ill father by gambling with death. Not to forget a clairvoyant lizard named Rosa. With the exception of the reptile, all characters are searching for a new identity, and a new and more fulfilling life. Freewill exists in opposition to fate,
A Mephistophelean barkeeper provides some much needed guidance. After all, catering for the large ensemble and their intertwined storylines is not an easy task. At times, even the writer and director del Sol seems to lose her way in the labyrintine narrative. With hyperbolic events and a feverish set design, it’s easy to forget that all the action takes place in one single night. Punk beats, garish lights, esoteric symbols, glittering costumes, and colourful make-up create an intoxicating cocktail of modern and ancient culture.
The old and the new can clash, but more often they merge or exist side by side, underlining the movie’s crucial message of acceptance. This carnival of creativity last for nearly two hours (111 minutes), and just like any celebration it can get a little tiring, or slip into banality. Still: Del Sol’s intentions feel genuine, and there is enough spark to keep the party going.
Rains Over Babel is in the Official Competition of Tiff Romania.















