In Little Ashes, we see the rise and fall of a love affair
between the Spanish poet Federico García Lorca (played by an
unknown, Javier Beltrán) and the painter Salvador Dalí
(played by a very well-known Robert Pattinson—the vampire in
Twilight). The affair’s ascension begins in 1922, while the
two are in college in Madrid. Its peak happens while the two are
vacationing in a remote area of Spain. The seduction scene: The painter
and poet take a boat out to the middle of a lake, jump into its warm
waters, and, as their legs are kicking below the surface, kiss in the
moonlight. Moments before the kissing, the moon leaves the clouds;
moments after the kissing, the moon returns to the clouds. From this
dizzying point, the only way to go is down. (This section is the worst
part of this generally unsatisfying movie.)

What brings the affair down? Lorca loves Dalí more than
Dalí loves Lorca. The reason for this disparity/despair is that
Dalí’s sexuality is not as cemented as Lorca’s. Lorca is clearly
gay; Dalí is not. Adding to the tension are two other beautiful
people who form separate triangles with the lovers. One triangle is
formed by Luis Buñuel (Matthew McNulty), who studies with
Dalí and Lorca at the university. The famous experimental
filmmaker and denouncer of middle-class values turns out to have a very
traditional view of love—it should be between opposites. When he
learns about the affair, Buñuel not only offers it a look of
utter disgust, he goes to a nearby park and beats up a gay cruiser for
trying to give him a quick and delicious blowjob. (The gay-bashing
scene is not convincing.)

The other triangle is formed by Margarita (Marina Gatell). She loves
Lorca, but the poet only loves the painter. This triangle begins with
lots of wine, music, and poetry but ends in the gutter—Lorca
roughly fucking Margarita on a bed as Dalí watches and
masturbates. When all the fucking/masturbating is done, Dalí
zips up his pants and abruptly leaves. As the door shuts behind him, we
(the viewers) are forced to imagine that Dalí is walking around
town with a moist area around his fly, as he made no effort to change
his clothes or hide his deed. (This scene is as close as Pattinson gets
to being a vampire.)

Little Ashes would be worth nothing if weren’t for the
beauty of the actors. recommended

Charles Mudede—who writes about film, books, music, and his life in Rhodesia, Zimbabwe, the USA, and the UK for The Stranger—was born near a steel plant in Kwe Kwe, Zimbabwe. He has no memory...

3 replies on “<i>Little Ashes</i>: Salvador Dalí’s Big Gay Mustache Party!”

  1. … after reading this …. I will certainly go

    if the biggest concern is a cum or vaginal juice stain on the guys pants, well, the whole review is most likely cloudy

  2. Wow, way to spoil/stomp on three pivotal scenes of the movie for someone who may have wanted to see it themselves. You’re supposed to be giving your opinion on the movie, not ruining it. Anyone who sees the movie after reading this review will now just be waiting for the scenes you just gave away, and won’t be able to enjoy any of the suspense/buildup. I would think you’d be more respectful of that being a movie maker yourself.

    There are ways to elegantly diss a movie (especially one that looks as crappy as this one) without giving the whole thing away. You jerks do this every week!

  3. If you’re going to see this film you need to hit a library and get a better grasp of the background of the time and characters ’cause the film maker assumes you know more then you may. I didn’t and reading up on it filled in a lot of the vague parts. Check out Lorca’s peotry. It’s sublime. All in all, I agree with the reviewer: it’s pretty anemic.

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