Anna Daniels
The Enigmatic Vision of the Flamingo Triumphs at Cannes—Views Split on Its Brilliance or Mediocrity
Diego Céspedes has achieved what many upcoming filmmakers fantasize about—winning the prestigious Un Certain Regard prize at Cannes for The Enigmatic Vision of the Flamingo. Yet, this accolade hasn’t garnered universal praise. Some critics are suggesting that this choice was the safest “edgy” option for the jury.
And upon reflection? They may have a valid point.
This isn’t merely a historical film—it’s a surreal journey through an ‘80s Chilean mining town where irrational fear reigns supreme. The themes of AIDS anxiety, societal scapegoating, and a young girl’s otherworldly quest converge in a unique narrative.
A Defiant Stance Against Conventional Storytelling
The real twist? The Enigmatic Vision of the Flamingo isn’t your typical coming-of-age story dressed in arthouse aesthetics. It boldly critiques how societies fabricate monsters for comfort, clinging to these narratives as truth. The protagonist is a 12-year-old named Lidia, the sole girl in a community gripped by an enigmatic illness.
But the shocking part? Residents believe the contagion is transmitted via the gaze of gay men. Yes, you read that correctly.
The film’s concept is as provocative as it is audacious—depicting queer panic interwoven with fantastical superstitions and moral decline. Céspedes doesn’t just reference history; he distorts and reinterprets it, presenting it anew with style and flair.
Decoding the Depths: What You Might Have Overlooked
Imagine Safe (1995) colliding with Pan’s Labyrinth, sprinkled with hints of Y Tu Mamá También. This is not a film you simply observe—it aggressively employs its surrealism. The flamingo—more than just a bird and less than a mere symbol—serves as an emblem of fear and longing. Céspedes deliberately leaves its meaning ambiguous. That’s intentional.
In one haunting scene, Lidia gazes into a rearview mirror, and the flamingo’s eye reflects back at her. No special effects—just raw emotion. Layers of symbolism intertwine.
One crew member reportedly mentioned during a post-production interview: “We were all moved after the mirror scene. We couldn’t pinpoint why. It just felt deeply significant.”
This exemplifies arthouse cinema’s emotional trickery at its finest.
Awards Showcase—Drama, Debate, and BDSM Romance
Let’s not forget that Flamingo wasn’t the sole contender capturing attention:
- Best Screenplay: Pillion by Harry Lighton—a BDSM queer romance featuring Harry Melling and Alexander Skarsgård. Critics are dubbing it “Fifty Shades on a Vespa.”
- Jury Prize: A Poet by Simón Mesa Soto. Filmed on 16mm, it is considered either a brilliant piece or a convoluted mess—depending on how one views a main actor who reportedly improvised 80% of his dialogue while chewing sugarcane.
- Best Performance: A tie between Cléo Diara (I Only Rest in the Storm) and Frank Dillane (Urchin). Dillane’s portrayal of a recovering addict struck a chord with viewers—and many argue he deserved the top distinction.
So yes, the Jury made some audacious selections. But awarding Flamingo the highest honor? That sends a bold message.
The Implications for LGBTQ+ Cinema in Latin America
This isn’t Céspedes’ debut in the industry. His short The Summer of the Electric Lion explored similar themes of innocence, repression, and magical realism. But Flamingo takes those ideas to an entirely new level.
The uncomfortable reality is that LGBTQ+ cinema coming from Latin America often has to endure hardship to be acknowledged. Céspedes made his voice heard louder than ever. And now, Cannes is taking notice.
Flashback: Recall 2016’s ‘The Ornithologist’?
A similar avian theme with underlying queer narratives. João Pedro Rodrigues similarly employed birds to delve into queer identity through absurd mythology. Cannes overlooked it. However, with a narrative that feels both more grounded and explosively impactful, Céspedes has managed to break new ground.
And audience reactions? They are divided.
Are You Ready to Watch This or Prefer the Summary?
That’s the million-dollar question. Flamingo is one of those exceptional films that challenges you to confront discomfort—and ultimately leaves you pondering long after it’s over.
It’s daring, chaotic, and potentially ground-breaking.
But would you endure two hours of hushed queer anxiety and ethereal feather symbolism? No pressure.
…Okay, maybe just a little.
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