With the death of Generalissimo Francisco Franco in Spain in 1975, the lifting of the stranglehold of censorship suddenly offered filmmakers the ability to push boundaries. Director Eloy de la Iglesia (Cannibal Man, Murder in a Blue World) turned out two seminal, intensely political gay films that must have been like lobbing incendiary devices in theaters at the time of their release. These two are included in the important new Blu-ray from Altered Innocence: Uranian Dreams: Two Homosexual films by Eloy de la Iglesia.
I’ve written about the tumultuous, often tragic life of this controversial director in the past, but these two films really reflect his sensibility and politics, not to mention railing against the crippling fascist rule in Spain during Franco’s years and what it is like to be a closeted man in society.
Hidden Pleasures (1977) stars handsome genre favorite Simon Andreu (Death Walks at Midnight, The Blood-Spattered Bride) as Eduardo, a successful banker from a well-to-do family (their dinner scenes are filled with passionate political bickering between family members). But Eduardo also has a secret life- picking up young male hustlers on the street. He finds himself drawn to a Miguel (Tony Fuentes), a young student, and after they spend much time together- also with Miguel’s girlfriend Carmen (Beatriz Rossat)- he confesses his love for Miguel, which goes badly. Miguel is also sleeping with an older married woman named Rosa (Charo Lopez) who decides to spitefully go after Eduardo when she feels threatened by their friendship. There is a fascinating scene where Eduardo espouses his belief that people should be able to live their lives freely, “We all have a right to be what we are, and nobody has the right to force us.” He then says to Miguel, “Rest assured I’ll never try anything with you. I don’t have the right to change you.” “Then we can be friends?” Miguel asks. “We must be friends,” Eduardo warmly states. There are some ugly patches in the film, like when Eduardo picks up a trick who ambushes him by inviting other hoods over who rob and rough him up. But the film ends on a weirdly hopeful note. It’s a pretty remarkable, complex, portrait of a gay man, and still packs a punch today.
Confessions of a Congressman (1978). This did play in NY under the title The Deputy and was well-reviewed at the time. I saw it then and really liked it, but knowing what I do now about the director it feels more layered with subtext. The film is about Roberto (Jose Sacistan), a left-wing lawyer married to Carmen (Maria Luisa San Jose). But he also has secret urges, especially picking up and having sex with street boys. Thrown in prison due to his political protests he meets a sexy, but unscrupulous male hustler Nes (Angel Pardo) who hooks him up with hot boys after they are released. One of them is Juanito (Jose Luis Alonso) who Roberto seriously falls for. But this is during the Franco era and some fiendish fascists recruit Nes and Juanito, offering them money to place secret cameras in Roberto’s apartment in order to thwart his political rise to power. This gets even more complicated when Juanito realizes he has feelings for Roberto and doesn’t want to destroy him. Believe me, this movie doesn’t cop out with a feel-good ending, that’s for sure. And, considering the political climate at the time it is covering, that’s not surprising. But the director is able to slip in his Marxist sensibility and affinity to the rough, sexy street boys he so liked to pal around with in real life.
Included as bonuses on this invaluable disc is a fascinating video essay by Alexandra Heller-Nicholas: “Smiling at the Door: Eloy de la Iglesia’s Hidden Pleasures.” Also, an excellent, informative video essay by Lee Gambin, “Sex Post Franco: The Queer Sensibility of Eloy de la Iglesia.”
