In Oaxaca, southern Mexico, the Zapotec people recognize muxes as a third gender, living out their identities in a non-binary way. Because Mexican culture is largely machista, muxes frequently take on caregiver roles, earning significant respect for both their contributions and their very existence. Rather than a standard movie, this film acts as a piece of visual art that immerses you in the actual experience of being a muxe. I cannot imagine another film that operates so much like a painting brought to life. It is a vibrant burst of creativity and culture, overflowing with life, love, and genuine heartbreak. Even if you do not walk away loving it strictly as a story, the sheer vividness and beauty of the visuals are undeniable.
Centering on a community of muxes who challenge the binary concept of gender, the film tracks three individuals—Delirio, Amaranta, and Mariano—as they navigate their pasts, presents, and futures in search of what they lack. As the group’s elder, Delirio mentors the younger muxes while simultaneously managing the solitary care of her aging mother and refusing to yield to the sexist, heteropatriarchal harassment from the men in her life; she also deals with a lover in Finland who sends letters but avoids any real commitment. Amaranta struggles with the rejection of her violent, angry father, who remains unable to accept his son’s third gender identity, and her life is further marked by a lack of love, exemplified by a straight man who only visits when it is convenient for him. Meanwhile, Mariano is a teenager still discovering his identity, finding joy in making clothes with Delirio despite his mother’s desire for him to become a priest. The arrival of Marta, a fashion designer from Spain, introduces a corporate element to Oaxaca; she is there to photograph and sample traditional designs so her company can profit from knock-offs without compensating the community. Despite this, Amaranta welcomes Marta with genuine warmth, fully integrating her into the group. As Marta spends more time with the muxes, she becomes increasingly drawn into their passions, their hardships, and the unspoken pain they carry, forcing her to reevaluate her own desires and her definition of belonging. Ultimately, unable to betray the community that embraced her, she is left at the film’s poetic conclusion, where an earthquake strikes and characters like Marta view the event as an opportunity to rewrite their own destinies.
While not strictly a gay film, its exploration of identity and gender feels like it fundamentally belongs to our community. The entire production is saturated with Oaxacan culture, from the music and food to the drinks and colors. I lack the personal context to judge the accuracy of these cultural details, but the visual execution is breathtaking. For instance, the scene where Amaranta takes Marta to a location known as a wall of lamentations—where muxes cry out their pain before a massive white stone called the rock of the soul—is visually stunning. The cinematography demonstrates a real command of space, utilizing precious, color-saturated frames that reflect the internal states of the characters, which in turn makes the traditional muxe clothing and the landscapes feel even more impactful. A segment focusing on Finlandia provides an intimate look at how these designs are crafted, primarily by the muxes themselves. This film stands out not only because it depicts a queer cultural identity rarely seen on screen, but because of how it layers in the exploitation that occurs when capitalism arrives to profit from that representation. It somehow succeeds in juggling transphobia, cultural appropriation, corporate greed, and aging all at once. Every performance is great. Although I have some notes regarding the storytelling and areas where it could have been tighter, the poetry, the imagery, and the colors are going to stick with me for a long time. (6.5/10)
