Azul de Niño (Spanish) [Blue for a Boy]

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Introduction

“Azul de Niño (Spanish) [Blue for a Boy]” isn’t your average love triangle drama—it’s a raw, sometimes messy exploration of love, identity, and betrayal set against the sterile, humming backdrop of a hospital. Directed by Claudia Garibaldi, the film dives into the tangled relationships between Natalie, her husband Ernesto, and Daniel, a young man who turns out to be much more than a secret. The film made a splash at festivals for its honest, unvarnished look at sexuality and the pain of self-deception, drawing comparisons to Almodóvar’s early works for its boldness, though not always its finesse.

Review

I’ll admit, when I first read the synopsis for “Azul de Niño,” my curiosity was piqued. A wife, a husband, and a lover—except the lover is a young man. There’s something electric about stories that promise to shatter conventions. But as the movie unfolded, my excitement fizzled into confusion. Was I watching a dark comedy or a melodrama? The tone seemed to wobble on a tightrope, never quite deciding which side to tumble toward.

The story kicks off with Natalie discovering Ernesto’s affair, and—oh boy—the confrontation is not what she expects. Instead of the usual “other woman,” she’s face-to-face with Daniel, a part-time sex worker with soulful eyes and a vulnerability that seeps through the screen. I felt the sting of her shock; I’ve never been in her shoes, but the awkward, heart-thumping silence in the room was palpable. Ernesto’s secret isn’t just infidelity—it’s a whole new world Natalie never imagined.

Azul de Niño (Spanish) [Blue for a Boy]

As Ernesto suffers a sudden stroke, the plot steers everyone to the hospital. Natalie and Daniel, thrown together by circumstance and heartbreak, find themselves orbiting each other in the sterile waiting area. You’d think tragedy might forge a deeper connection, but the movie keeps their relationship oddly shallow. I wanted to feel the heat of their anger, the ache of their loss. Instead, what I got was surface-level small talk and glances that didn’t quite crack open the rawness I was hoping for.

The hospital scenes, peppered with absurd nurse banter and fleeting encounters with other patients, left me scratching my head. Was this supposed to be funny? Sometimes, the humor felt forced, like someone telling a joke at a funeral just to break the tension. At other moments, the drama teetered on melodrama, but never fully committed. It’s as if the film itself was unsure whether to laugh or cry, leaving me in a sort of emotional limbo.

Still, I have to hand it to the actors—Natalie’s portrayal of a woman torn between rage and vulnerability resonated with me. Her eyes flickered with pain and determination, and I found myself rooting for her even as she stumbled through the fog of betrayal. Daniel, meanwhile, was heartbreakingly believable as the lover who is both cherished and cast aside. The image of him sitting alone in the hospital corridor, hands trembling, is one that stuck with me long after the credits rolled.

Yet, despite the solid performances, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something vital was missing. The film skims over the deeper themes—identity, authenticity, and the messy business of loving someone who can’t love themselves fully. I craved more insight into Ernesto’s turmoil. What did he feel, trapped between two worlds? The movie never lets us in, leaving his character as a shadow on the periphery.

Maybe “Azul de Niño” is meant to be a portrait of emotional paralysis, of people unable to bridge the chasms between them. But for me, the colors never quite blended. The ending hints at hope—Natalie takes Ernesto home, while Daniel is left adrift. There’s a flicker of redemption, but it’s faint, like the last rays of blue before dusk.

In the end, I walked away wishing for more—more depth, more honesty, more fire. The film has its moments, sure, but it feels like a puzzle with missing pieces. If you’re drawn to stories that linger in the gray areas of love and identity, “Azul de Niño” might speak to you. For me, though, it was a song that never quite found its melody.

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