Rotting in the Sun (2023)
- Christian Keane
- Nov 11, 2023
- 2 min read
Sebastián Silva portrays a version of himself in his new film; a director called Sebastián Silva who lives in Mexico City, spending his time snorting ketamine, googling his own name and researching suicide methods while he's supposed to be working. Rotting in the Sun is an unflattering portrayal of self-obsession, narcissism and navel gazing, but the self awareness that Silva provides from behind the camera is where the film really shines. Silva (the character) takes a trip to the coast in an attempt to snap out of his self-inflicted depression, staying at a gay partying spot, a beach packed with naked men. Silva (the director) manages here to shove an astonishing amount of penises in your face, but there's nothing gratuitous here; the point of it is a depiction of gay culture whilst proving the hedonistic mindset of Silva. The only disgust here comes from Silva, and yet it's clearly both a dream and a nightmare for him, he is outwardly repulsed but can't stay away; so self-indulgent is he that he wants to feel hatred but needs (and wants) the attention. At the beach he meets a similarly self-obsessed Tik-Tok influencer Jordan Firstman (an absolutely fantastic performance by the real life comedian Jordan Firstman) who, whilst obnoxious and narcissistic, has his head screwed on more securely than Sebastien, and after pitching a TV series to him, the pair agree to meet back in Mexico City to work on it in Sebastián's apartment. This is where the film completely changes tack and the focus switches to Silva's housekeeper Vero (a sublime Catalina Saavedra, who has worked with Silva before) after the films' key incident. Flipping genres from black comedy to almost crime drama, Silva keeps you guessing whilst surrounding you with frequently dreadful people who do, at times, almost reveal their souls. This balance of keeping you caring about surface-only individuals in a claustrophobic environment is not an easy one to attain, but the trump card here is Vero. Her unbearable hopelessness after Silva (the director) has pulled the rug out from under us (and her) is what drives the film, we sympathise, yet are frequently frustrated by events but remain fully invested in the result of the drama. Silva's film is a triumph of black comedy, especially its opening half, and proves the importance of distributors like Mubi (who bankrolled this); without them we'd never see something this mad, yet effective, from a mainstream distributor. It's one of 2023's most original pieces of work, and Silva's self-awareness of self-obsession is something that all would do well to take note of. 8.0/10







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