Ion de Sosa’s sun-drenched drama Balearic marries two separate tales of fate through a highly tenuous link – aside from location. Seemingly incomprehensible at times, this disconnection between both is then punctuated by sinister blackout moments suggesting a character’s subconscious at play, presumably to jolt the viewer out of the reverie of witnessing wealthy villa life of indulgent wining and dining, through obscure symbolism. It also suggests a telepathic attachment between the two parties at play, including one stomach-churning pool moment, each subject to an immediate threat – though one far closer than the other. However, this is all open to interpretation, it seems.
In fact, the first part promises a very different ‘survival’ thriller to the latter: Four teenagers walking through woodland to a beach they know, come across an empty luxury house that was not built there the previous summer, complete with its own inviting pool. They believe they have struck gold, and as one couple decides to go for a dip, the other two enter the house to explore. Soon the group relaxes to music by the pool, only for their idyllic backdrop to be broken by the arrival of three aggressive Dobermanns that attack and trap them in the water. De Sosa places the four in peril, and so begins a tale of acumen about whether they can escape – or not.
Only, the scene instantly changes to an older party of seemingly mismatched guests of a wealthy and infirm benefactor who arrive at a stunning Balearic villa some distance away from a raging forest fire on the horizon. De Sosa presents each character, their idiosyncrasies and any ulterior motives, as well as broadly painting them as a stereotypical upper class ensemble, too preoccupied in their lot and their squabbles that real life literally burns away in the distance. Indeed, there is an incredible scene where the reality of the wildfire literally gatecrashes their pool party and brings them out of their bubble for a split second, before this is brushed off in a drug-fuelled haze that feels as bogus as their relationships.
There is a faint glimmer of what de Sosa is attempting to achieve here, such as comparing the ‘haves and the have-nots’ by using some sumptuous, hazy, 1970s-themed 16mm cinematography that perpetuates a sense of warmth and dreamy complacency that money can buy. The horror flashes are perhaps designed to unsettle when things become too agreeable to the eye, destroying any sense of security that is a charade anyway, as the affluent party’s not so idle chatter and bizarre choreographed moments suggest.
Apart from the very end scene replicating a 1970s slasher movie, there is little sense of how exactly the first part of Balearic actually relates to the following hour, overall rendering it unsatisfactory and disjointed, as the fate of the youth is not explored further. Perhaps the concept is to seize the moment as fate can deal a duff hand, be that hellhounds or fire.
2/5 stars
