Marilyn is a 2019 drama about a seventeen-year-old farm worker who discovers his sexuality in a hostile environment.
It’s what’s seen not heard in most of director Martín Rodríguez Redondo‘s newest feature film Marilyn that resonants most, especially in early moments that slowly, effortlessly, unravel the tragedy at its heart. From the way fingers caress the fabric of a skirt, the eye contact of a mance staring down his target, the expression on a boy’s face at the sight of his dead father. It’s his confidence in his audience that drives Redondo’s film, one that never exploits the conflicts of its story, leaving it somewhat subdued but not out of focus.
In the Argentinian countryside, young Marcos (Walter Rodríguez) lives with his small farming family, including his mother Olga (Catalina Saavedra) and father Carlos (Germán de Silva). They are harassed by local troublemakers who let loose the cattle and even slaughter one of the cows. The stress soon takes its toll on Carlos, who succumbs, leaving his family to try to run the place without him. Meanwhile, we soon learn that the introverted Marcos is barely concealing his curiosity with a feminine life, and one night at a local carnival, dresses as a woman to express himself in dance with others like him. Unfortunately, he is recognized by a group of boys who have been steadily targeting him, and in the corners beyond the celebration is violently raped.
As I said, there’s hardly a word spoken for much of the story of Marcos, the attack itself almost entirely devoid of words, Redondo relying on his close, harrowing imagery to give impact. That’s not to say there is no dialogue, the Spanish language film deliberate when it speaks, keeping as authentic as it can in balancing the simple but affecting story of a boy coming to terms with his sexuality and the consequences of doing so.
Based on real events, Redondo’s brief 80-minute film is a parable of sorts, as Marcos struggles to find his place in the very limited world he lives in. The attack is brutal and physically painful but what hurts most is the reaction of his mother when he comes home. It’s devastating and shifts motivation. All the while, the farm is continually targeted, cows stolen and freed from their already rickety pens, Olga faced with dire prospects as her sons are unable to run the family business.
Marilyn is a quiet experience with no soundtrack and not much action, the confined story deeply personal, driven by its prevalent sorrow and tunneled intimacy. We experience nearly everything within arm’s length of Marcos, his exploration of this dimly-lit existence poking holes in the shadows, but we know, as he discovers, there’s not much tolerance for who he is and the shadows are the safest place. But exposure is unavoidable.
The message isn’t all that hard to get hold of with Marilyn, and even with its short run-time, can feel a little laggy, the hopelessness steady and the boy’s longing for affection and freedom for such weighting every frame of the film. Still, there is an elegance to the simplicity that sort of toys with our patience and expectations, the looming stillness building a simmering pressure that does find its release in a final sequence that I dare not give hint to, other than it will have you reconsider everything you’ve just seen. Highly recommended.