120 Battements par Minute (B.P.M)

One would think that the drama of AIDS has been portrayed in cinema in a much larger scale than it actually has. This may be because the images that come to our mind from AIDS in film are strong, dramatic and depressive: Tom Hanks dying in a hospital bed, Gabourey Sidibe being tormented by her abusive mother, an extremely skinny Matthew McCounaughey with sarcoma eating his skin, a delusional Ed Harris jumping from his apartment window.

120 Battements par Minute is strong and powerful, but for very different reasons. This is a film where the political statements are as strong, if not more, than the personal stories of loss and suffering. Set in the early 90s Paris, and following a group of activists, very unorthodox in their methods to draw attention towards their agenda, Robin Campillo offers a film that is as pulsating as the title can suggest. It hits with strength from the opening scenes and never stops striking for the entire length of the film.

For a film that is charged with that many discussions, strong scenes and personal drama, it has an amazing sense of rhythm. The plot doesn't exhaust you or lose you; on the contrary, it gets you at the edge of your seat, following how every character represents an opinion, a political posture or a personal case.

It is curious how educational this film can be (in the positive way of the word), even for those of us who believe that understand the topic very well. It brings, at least, a few things about AIDS that we didn't knew or considered, but it never feels that being didactic was its main goal. It's the perfect film for every teenager starting their a sexual life (in disregard of gender or sexual orientation) to learn about what does AIDS implies in a broad sense, but without feeling like they are attending a lecture. This is because of the mature and human touch imprinted by the authors, refusing to approach the topic as a health pamphlet or a biology or ethics book. They go for the realism over the melodrama, and the action over passive suffering.

The screenplay is clever in so many ways, with Campillo translating that wit to his images and to his cast to give an immersive and vivid experience. We end up feeling as if we are part of this gang, as if they were our comrades in the struggle, and even our friends. A film that has the same amount of guts and heart is so rare to find, that 120 Battements par Minute feels unique, almost an action film, but one with its human side very present. It is loud and aggressive when it has to be, but deep and moving when it needs to, and even extremely erotic at some points. Nahuel Pérez Biscayart tackles the depth of his character and offers probably the best performance by a young actor in this year.

The group of activists in the film have a method to applaud the opinions of their members: instead of clapping their hands or cheering, they just click their fingers. At the end of the projection of the film, after the few seconds that we needed to let that striking ending to sink in, the entire audience started clicking their fingers at once; probably one of the most beautiful moments of collective reaction to a film that I've experienced in my life.