Gala del Sol's film, "Rains Over Babel," is a patchwork of deliberate zaniness, drawing inspiration from Dante’s “Inferno” and set in a whimsical retrofuturistic version of Cali, Colombia. Depicted as a queer-coated Purgatory lit up with magical realism and a touch of '90s grunge, the film uses this cityscape as a canvas for a tale as old as time where life and death hang in the balance, subject to dice games. Encounters with drag queens and demons are the new normal in this neon-flickering world, as it stages kung fu clashes in BDSM caves. Embracing the absurd, del Sol’s masterfully haphazard film turns into a wonderful victory of maximalism, if one allows oneself to be carried away.
Historically, the international perception of Colombia has spanned two contrasting but arguably interconnected paradigms. The nation, plagued by guerrilla warfare, drug trafficking and violence, has often been presented via the stark lens of its filmmakers who frame stories around the concept of mortality. Equally, the country's natural splendour and the imagery it invokes has been used to showcase magical realism, providing a needed element of escapism as a tool to fathom its violent past. In "Rains of Babel," del Sol gleefully converges these dichotomies into a fiery mélange.
La Flaca (Saray Rebolledo), the Grim Reaper of Cali, is the nucleus of a convoluted narrative that brings together a motley band of characters. These include a speaking amphibian, a deceased poet, an aspiring drag queen, an abducted band leader, two lovers bound by fate and a cryptic apothecary who watches the growing drama unfold from behind the counter at Babel bar. Dante (Felipe Aguilar Rodríguez), the storyteller, triggers the narrative. The day we are introduced to him, is the day his pact with La Flaca terminates, freeing him from his duty of harvesting souls, which he has been performing for several decades, thereby enabling him to regain his lost identity.
Del Sol expertly navigates through these diverse plot lines with their excessive quirks. True to her style, she orchestrates a grand, extravagant spectacle at Babel, the vibrant world she's conjuring, by skillfully harmonizing her actors' performances with the everchanging rhythm and genres of the narrative. She is propelled by Martín De Lima’s diverse score that seamlessly blends salsa and Balkan music. Del Sol's eccentric costuming, flamboyant set design and amusing sound effects add to the charm.
The charm of "Rains Over Babel" lies in its ability to mould familiar narratives into an exuberant, grand spectacle featuring estranged lovers, absent fathers, doting mothers and powerful sirens. The film creates an alternative universe - more accepting and compassionate, recognizing the persisting threats and violence, but focusing on resilience and resistance. As one character mentions, “Sometimes the best thing is to jump into the void, and let what has to burn… burn.” And burn it does. “Rains Over Babel” is a healing balm scored to salsa Caleña rhythms – a flamboyant invitation to the viewer to participate in this extraordinary celebration of life.
