Albert Serra’s 2024 documentary film “Afternoons of Solitude”, which happens to be released in South Korean theaters a few days ago, deeply unsettles and captivates me for good reasons. Here is an austerely clinical but undeniably visceral presentation of bullfighting, and you will be quite mesmerized by a number of intensely vivid moments, regardless of however you feel about its rather gruesome main subject.
The central figure of the documentary is a Peruvian matador named Andrés Roca Rey, and the documentary simply and plainly focuses on how he and his entourage go through a series of bullfighting events in Spain. For example, we never get to know anything personal about Rey or any of his colleagues at all, and the documentary also does not provide any interview or narration to give us any background knowledge on its main subject.
As a result, we become a rather distant observer to whatever is unfolded on the screen, but I must tell you that it was often not so easy for me and several audiences around me to look away from the screen. As the camera of cinematographer Artur Tort Pujol, who also edited the documentary with Serra, steadily and patiently follows the actions of Rey and his colleagues on the field, the documentary gradually accumulates tension on the screen, and we become more nervous as our viewpoint is often limited by frequent close-ups. It is quite clear to us that anything fatal can suddenly happen from here or there, no matter how careful Rey and his colleagues are as gradually pushing their latest bull to its inevitable end.
This is certainly a highly risky profession, and the documentary sometimes observes Rey and his colleagues talking a bit with each other after their latest bullfighting event is over. As their vehicle is taking them back to their staying place, they throw some compliment to each other’s manly bravery, which makes an interesting contrast with their rather flamboyant attire. At one point later in the documentary, we see Rey wearing his pretty costume with some assistance from his dresser, and then we observe more of how cocky he must be in front of a bull which can kill him at any moment if he is not careful enough.
It is apparent that those audiences love to see Rey and his colleagues doing another bullfighting, but the documentary deliberately distances itself from the reactions of their audiences. Although we frequently hear a lot of gasps and cheers from their audiences, the documentary never shows them at all except a number of spectators close to the field, and we can only observe how much Rey and his colleagues are excited by a lot of cheers from their audiences.
While distancing itself more and more from Rey and his colleagues, the documentary sometimes seems to show a bit of sympathy to those poor bulls to be killed in one way or another by Rey and his colleagues. The camera often captures how the bulls become quite exhausted as attacked or teased more and more by Rey and his colleagues, and the most harrowing moments in the documentary come from when the camera lingers on their dying bodies for a while before they are eventually taken away from the field for the next bullfighting to follow.
Nevertheless, the documentary adamantly sticks to its neutral attitude as before, and this will provoke a lot of thoughts and feelings for yourself. In case of me, I was frequently repulsed by the bloody and brutal aspects of bullfighting presented on the screen, and I cringed and winced all the more during the last bullfighting sequence in the documentary, which is quite long without much interruption as phlegmatically but strikingly presenting all those acts of animal cruelty across the screen.
At the same time, I admired the considerable cinematic achievement by Serra and his crew. I became curious about how they closely and vividly shot all those bullfighting sequences in the documentary, and I was also impressed by how Serra and Pujol deftly generate narrative momentum to engage us more. As we see more of bullfighting, we come to feel more of the inherent professional danger of Rey and his colleagues, and our mind often cannot help but swing back and forth between repulsion and excitement.
As having such an ambivalent experience from the film, my mind went back to Georges Franju’s utterly unforgettable short film “Blood of the Beasts” (1949), which gives a vivid and unflinching look into what happens in those slaughterhouses of Paris day by day. Both “Blood of the Beasts” and “Afternoons of Solitude” show a lot of animal cruelty, but the former is a bit less, shall we say, disturbing as sharply recognizing how much our human civilization has depended on killing animals for meat. In case of the latter, we see animals maimed and killed just for fun and excitement, and that can look more atrocious to some of you.
Overall, “Afternoon of Solitude” is definitely not something you can casually watch on Sunday afternoon, but it is worthwhile to watch for those inarguably intense moments presented with considerable cinematic qualities to admire. I do not think I will soon watch this very uncomfortable masterwork again, but it induced a lot of thoughts and feelings from me during my viewing, and that is certainly something I will not easily forget.













































