Erotic Musing: SEX AND LUCÍA

Original Spanish poster art

It's funny the tricks memory can play. I saw Sex and Lucía when it was first released, in 2001, and I loved it. Then I saw it again a few years later on DVD and loved it even more. I found myself impressed with not only the bravery and conviction of the film's actors, who really put themselves out there, but with director Julio Medem's ability to paint a complex and romantic tale that, even if it doesn't entirely add up, is so beautiful and intriguing you mostly don't care.

And yet when it came time to write about the film here, I realized I remembered little beyond a few key scenes--mostly involving sex--and the simple fact that I really loved it and wanted to share it with others. Yes, I could recall (more or less) the basic characters and their function within the story. But the plot itself? Not so much. My memories instead were more emotional, imagistic, as if drawn from a distantly lived experience of youth.

Giving the film a third look, I can understand why. There's a lot going on. Lots of past events overlapping with present, fact with fiction, passion with reflection. One moment you think you've got it figured out, the next you're not so sure. It pulls you in and challenges you while mostly avoiding being frustratingly opaque.

Watching it again I was reminded of how intensely erotic it is (it's even more explicit than I remembered), but also how that eroticism forms a natural part of the story's fabric. It's tricky for overtly sexual films to find a balance between necessity and exploitation, but this one actually pulls it off. Because the story is grounded in the physical and emotional sparks that pull people together--for better and worse--the sexuality becomes a way for the characters to express themselves. It's not imposed or gratuitous; the sex scenes really do further the plot.

Paz Vega and Tristan Ulloa

I was also impressed with the ingenuity of the film's structure, of its interweaving of seemingly unrelated storylines and characters from past and present that ultimately twist back in on themselves. And I'd forgotten about the movie's distinctive look. To achieve longer takes and a more relaxed flow between the actors, Medem chose to shoot with one of the first high-end digital cinema cameras. That meant certain technical limitations in terms of image quality, but he and his cinematographer turned this weakness into a strength, creating beautifully overexposed and oversaturated images where a blown-out seascape becomes almost surreal in its stark beauty.

Like its characters, Sex and Lucía exults in its sensuality. But contrary to its title, it's about more than just sex (or even Lucía). On the one hand it's a multilayered exploration of love, fate, memory, and the artistic imagination. (Which parts are real? Which are fiction? I'm still not sure.) But it's also about the effect our lives and actions have on others, even when we're no longer present.

Tristán Ulloa and Elena Anaya

The contributions of the actors can't be overstated. They clearly trust Medem and bring a tangible conviction to the roles he's given them. As a straight male I couldn't help being knocked out by all three of the women (Paz Vega, Elena Anaya, and Najwa Nimri). But beyond their obvious beauty, they come across as complex human beings, fully conveying their characters' inner lives and motivations. The men, whose roles are more reactive, also come off well, if with fewer fireworks.

Like Krzysztof Kieślowski, the director of The Double Life of Veronique and Three Colors, Medem creates a self-contained universe filled with highly subjective characters, coincidence, and a touch of magic. If  such things bring out cries of "pretentious" in you, then this may not be your cup of tea. But I've seen pretentious (trust me), and this isn't it. Sex and Lucía is a mesmerizing and deeply felt work, with a genuine heart and a poetic sense of mystery. It's also ridiculously sexy--like few films before or since. That alone should get you in the door. Whether you stay depends on what else you're looking for, and if you're willing to work a little to find it.