BFI FLARE 2025: Night Stage Review

What is the price of success? Gabriel Faryas plays Matias, an aspiring actor who is concerned he lacks the natural charisma to make it in this business. As his rival and flatmate is offered his big break, Matias is terrified he’ll be left behind in the tiny flat eating frozen pizzas. But his fortunes change when he meets Cirillo Luna’s Rafael, a mysterious but seemingly important stranger who enjoys the risk of getting caught during sex. But Rafael is hiding who he really is, and his secret will change Matias’ life forever.

The oppression that Matias experiences because of his sexuality is overt but never plainly articulated. He is encouraged to protect his mystique for the benefit of the female viewers of the TV series he is auditioning for. Earlier, he learns that his rival is favoured for the role of a womaniser because to be a great performer, you must live the life you seek to portray on and off screen. Matias is being told he isn’t good enough, not because of his lack of skill but because of who he is.

Matias’s loneliness and self-doubt are reflected in the fantastical world he inhabits. Directors Marcio Reolon and Filipe Matzembacher invoke Friedkin’s Cruising in their portrayal of the titular Night Stage, a neon-coloured world of empty streets and mysterious cars whisking people away into darkness. The liminal, slow-motion liminal space of the nearby park where gay men meet for sex is at first intense and confronting but then increasingly dreamlike as the space becomes a refuge. The sirens call out to our main characters, urging them to leave their personas behind and embrace their simplest desires.

Rafael’s desire to reveal his sexuality in the most extreme ways could conform to problematic stereotypes. His willingness to engage in sexual activity in front of strangers and, on one occasion, in front of a family with a small child is a literal manifestation of homophobic rhetoric that pushes gay people out of public spaces. It recalls the sentiment of Andrew Haigh’s Weekend in which Chris New’s Glen sermonised on the importance of being openly and visibly gay. The sex of this film feels political and urgent.

As the film’s story progresses we retreat from this fraught reality into a much camper, melodramatic reality featuring De-Palma-esque murderers and a political intrigue. Once the plot starts veering off the rails, it’s Gabriel Faryas who keeps us grounded in the emotional reality of his character’s story. Once the bullets start flying and the knives come out, it’s his performance that keeps us invested.

Four Stars

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