Unapologetic sexuality in independent films, a conversation with - The Trace of your Lips - Director and Co-Writer Julián Hernández.
Picture this:
Covid-related issues at the very beginning of 2020, the struggles of finding
love during a world pandemic, beautifully shot frames in this colorful and
diverse place: Mexico City. “THE TRACE OF YOUR LIPS” had it all for an
intriguing and captivating film and believe me when I say this: that’s exactly
what it delivered.
My attention was drawn the most to a very specific way of showing the human body. Several scenes presented nudity in its full glory. Frontal, sincere, natural, and relatable nudity that is. The rawness of these interactions tends to resemble our lives a little closer, and makes us all find ourselves and our experiences, somehow portrayed on the screen.
Aldo dancing in his apartment. * |
After the film was presented at the Chéries-Chéris festival in Paris, I had the opportunity to interview Director and co-Writer Julián Hernández. “La huella” -as they affectionately call it- is his 7th production. They all have his signature imprinted. That is raw, unapologetic sexuality, which usually comes with many sex scenes, blunt sincere conversations before and after sex, and an inability to be dosed to the audience.
Aldo and Covid patrols. * |
As far as
inspiration for his stories, the exploitability of feelings as portraited by
R.W Fassbinder gets a special place. For “La huella” specifically, Covid
pandemic served as the main giver. He remembers how the writing process began
in February of 2020, when news and social media were flooded with an impending
pandemic. However, AIDS epidemic in the 80s marked him in a personal level and
he wanted the fear and anguish of those days to also be somehow shared during
the film.
Some of his muse
also comes from personal experiences during early years in life, and it gives
him the confidence to deliver the message despite his usually controversial
point of view. Several of his stories are fictional truths from encounters that
frustrated him or piqued his interest.
Román looking out his window. * |
Representation of all types of relationships, beyond a traditional marriage institution seems to be a frequent goal for the director. We talked about the evolution of queerness in independent films made in Mexico, as many roles and interactions traditionally seen on the screen come from a stereotypical point of view. And although this conversation in Latino films has changed in recent years, there’s still some catching up to do.
I also learned
about some of the biggest challenges the production team faced, as they
included Nahuatl in the film, even for a few minutes. Their intention
was to convey a message of inclusion and diversity, beyond sexual orientation.
They made that
happen with Aldo, a Mexican native retail worker who wanted nothing but love, and
who shows us the shades of a struggling millennial during Covid. We see him
working as an actor, jumping between two languages: Spanish and Nahuatl
-the most spoken indigenous language in Mexico-, flirting with more than one
soul, but the main attention falls on his skills as an online sex-worker.
One of the sexiest, most anticipated scenes of the film takes place when a cop storms into Román’s apartment, while sirens were loudly sounding in the back. An aggressive, extra-touchy, masked man starts harassing the lonely actor, and it slowly leads to a steamy encounter between the two men. But it all becomes blurry when the cop starts stripping down, and a pair of denim shorts pops – a fetich Román had for the awaited session between the two main characters.
*Pictures by Tochiro Gallegos. Mexico city, 2023
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