Pornomelancholia review – sorrows of the sweaty, permanently aroused sex influencer | Film

Lalo (Lalo Santos) is a sex influencer and porn star, and his job is to present his life as one long, hard, sweaty state of permanent arousal. To follow his various accounts online is to imagine a world simmering with constant sexual potential, always ready to boil over into hardcore scenarios, perhaps even involving you, his loyal follower. But even if the title of the film hasn’t clued you into the fact that Argentinian director Manuel Abramovich’s docudrama is not an enthusiastic commercial for this lifestyle, the first scene in the film will get you up to speed pretty quickly: Lalo stands alone in a busy street, people passing him by. He breaks down and begins to weep, an image of isolation in the hustle of modern living.

This isn’t an especially rare theme in modern independent queer cinema; musings on a life where explicit videos are common currency and emotional connection is a rare and seemingly unattainable thing are 10 a penny. It’s easy to see why this is a popular sub-genre – film-makers get to be existential, while also showing plenty of ass. Everybody’s happy! (This ruse is hardly the preserve of queer cinema, either; straight European arthouse has had the playbook nailed since the 1970s.) As far as I know, this sub-genre has no name, but “pornomelancholia” would actually work quite well.

However, the way Lalo’s loneliness is juxtaposed with the spicier elements of his life means this is a well-made example, with the specificity of Lalo’s world making it especially interesting. A good chunk of the film is devoted to a shoot for a pornographic film based on the Mexican revolution, with scenes alternating from loving showcases of toned bodies, to downbeat discussions between the cast around everything from HIV status to their relative happiness with their lot, to the nuts (as it were) and bolts of making a pornographic film. Did you know the semen isn’t always real? It won’t be for everyone, but Pornomelancholia certainly puts the stud in character study.

Lalo (Lalo Santos) is a sex influencer and porn star, and his job is to present his life as one long, hard, sweaty state of permanent arousal. To follow his various accounts online is to imagine a world simmering with constant sexual potential, always ready to boil over into hardcore scenarios, perhaps even involving you, his loyal follower. But even if the title of the film hasn’t clued you into the fact that Argentinian director Manuel Abramovich’s docudrama is not an enthusiastic commercial for this lifestyle, the first scene in the film will get you up to speed pretty quickly: Lalo stands alone in a busy street, people passing him by. He breaks down and begins to weep, an image of isolation in the hustle of modern living.

This isn’t an especially rare theme in modern independent queer cinema; musings on a life where explicit videos are common currency and emotional connection is a rare and seemingly unattainable thing are 10 a penny. It’s easy to see why this is a popular sub-genre – film-makers get to be existential, while also showing plenty of ass. Everybody’s happy! (This ruse is hardly the preserve of queer cinema, either; straight European arthouse has had the playbook nailed since the 1970s.) As far as I know, this sub-genre has no name, but “pornomelancholia” would actually work quite well.

However, the way Lalo’s loneliness is juxtaposed with the spicier elements of his life means this is a well-made example, with the specificity of Lalo’s world making it especially interesting. A good chunk of the film is devoted to a shoot for a pornographic film based on the Mexican revolution, with scenes alternating from loving showcases of toned bodies, to downbeat discussions between the cast around everything from HIV status to their relative happiness with their lot, to the nuts (as it were) and bolts of making a pornographic film. Did you know the semen isn’t always real? It won’t be for everyone, but Pornomelancholia certainly puts the stud in character study.