La Bola Negra — Review
Source: Netflix
Javier Calvo and Javier Ambrossi's La Bola Negra is one of the best films of 2026, and it is easy to see why the directing duo—collectively known as Los Javis—won the Best Director prize at the Cannes Film Festival. An expansive story spanning decades of Spanish history, the film interweaves the stories of three gay men across three time periods: 1932, 1937, and 2017. The film also showcases immense creativity from a screenwriting standpoint. The film was partially inspired by Federico García Lorca’s unfinished play La Bola Negra, with Lorca himself also appearing as a character, played by Alberto Cortés. The screenplay, co-written by Los Javis and Alberto Conejero, also draws inspiration from Conejero’s play La Piedra Oscura. The result is a remarkably ambitious work that transforms its sprawling historical narrative into a moving meditation on queer identity, secrecy, love, and the possibility of living without shame.
Source: Netflix
The film opens with a bang—literally. In 1937, during the Spanish Civil War, Sebastián (Guitarricadelafuente) is a trumpet player waiting with his band to welcome Italian troops to their village. Instead, the troops unexpectedly open fire on the village, killing countless people, including Sebastián’s mother. Shortly afterward, Sebastián finds himself serving in the same war that upended his life. As a Nationalist soldier, Sebastián is tasked with guarding an injured Republican prisoner, Rafael Rodríguez Rapún (Miguel Bernardeau). Although La Bola Negra is a work of fiction, Rapún was a real historical figure with close ties to Federico García Lorca.
Source: Netflix
The film’s title comes from the segment of the triptych inspired by Lorca’s unfinished play of the same name, set in 1932. Carlos (Milo Quifes) is a young man seeking to join his father’s prestigious social club, where members vote with a white ball if they believe he should be admitted and a black ball if they oppose his membership. Rumors about his sexuality subsequently lead to him being blackballed. This segment makes the film feel almost comparable to Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters in the way it interprets a writer’s work while simultaneously making the writer himself a character within the film.
Rounding out the narrative is a storyline set in 2017, where Alberto (Carlos González), a historian, learns of an unexpected inheritance from his grandfather. The discovery forces Alberto and his mother to confront aspects of their family history they never knew existed, raising questions about secrecy and how well we truly know our loved ones. Unlike Sebastián and Carlos, Alberto can live openly as a gay man with his partner, Juan Pablo (Julio Torres). The film's power lies in the juxtaposition of queer identity in the 1930s with the present day. It beautifully captures how much has changed across generations, while also conveying that greater freedom in the present does not necessarily erase the pain and private shame of the past.
Source: Netflix
The film's technical aspects are part of what makes the triptych structure particularly effective. Alberto Gutiérrez’s editing seamlessly transitions between time periods with clever crosscutting. The editing also ensures each timeline receives roughly equal attention, preventing any one story from feeling secondary. In addition, Gris Jordana’s cinematography makes it easy to differentiate between the time periods. Shot entirely on 35mm, the film maintains a cohesive visual style while giving each storyline its own distinct visual identity. Rather than relying solely on the actors, costumes, or settings to signal a shift in time, the film’s color grading, compositions, and camera movements vary across the different segments, making it easy to immediately distinguish which timeline we are immersed in.
Source: Netflix
The performances are fantastic across the board. Los Javis assembled an extensive ensemble with varying levels of experience. This is singer-songwriter Guitarricadelafuente’s film debut, and he holds his own in one of the leading roles. Meanwhile, seasoned performers such as Glenn Close and Penélope Cruz also appear in supporting roles. Despite having limited screen time, Cruz delivers one of the film’s most memorable lines, while Close, looking for a new challenge, performs entirely in Spanish. The newcomers bring an intense, freewheeling energy to their scenes, while the more experienced actors help channel that energy and control it. The chemistry between the actors does a lot of heavy lifting, as so much is conveyed in the unspoken moments. Guitarricadelafuente’s expressive eyes can communicate desire or sorrow with just a single glance.
The music is also one of the film’s greatest strengths. Raül Refree’s score enhances the emotional moments without overshadowing or overwhelming them. The emotions culminate in a stunning snowy scene accompanied by the original song “La Nieve,” co-written by Raül Refree and performed by Guitarricadelafuente. The combination of the snow-covered landscape and Guitarricadelafuente’s soulful vocals makes for one of the film’s most beautiful moments, and it was one of the sequences that moved me to tears.
Source: Netflix
La Bola Negra feels like a love letter to Spain, the queer community, and the art of storytelling. The narrative itself carries a tremendous amount of emotional weight and will deeply resonate with anyone who has ever felt as though they had to hide or conceal parts of themselves. While the film has its share of heartbreaking moments, I ultimately found it to be hopeful. There is something about the contrast between the different timelines that demonstrates just how far humanity has come. Sure, things may look pretty bleak right now, and at times humanity can feel hopeless. We still have a lot of work to do, but the fact that Alberto does not need to hide who he is and is able to live openly and freely as a gay man is itself a testament to that progress. We have come a long way, and that is something worth celebrating. In fact, the film itself feels like a celebration of queer identity. Beyond illustrating the progress in society’s views on homosexuality through its narrative, La Bola Negra also reflects that progress. In the 1930s, it would have been difficult to imagine a film this big and bold celebrating homosexuality so openly. Yet here we are in 2026, with this stunning, sprawling, unapologetically queer epic.
La Bola Negra will be released in theaters in the United States on October 16, 2026 before streaming on Netflix on December 2nd.
Javier Calvo and Javier Ambrossi during a Q&A at SVA on September 9, 2026.
