Direction: Albert Serra
Country: Spain
Undoubtedly well shot, Albert Serra’s Afternoons of Solitude lingers in the mind solely because of the brutality of its subject. This docudrama follows venerated bullfighter Andrés Roca Rey and his crew through several Spanish arenas, where sadistic crowds exalt in the bulls’ agony. No matter how much lyricism Serra attempts to inject, what dominates the screen is unrelenting animal suffering.
The bullfighters appear addicted to adrenaline and cruelty, proudly displaying their virility while gradually sacrificing an animal that, driven only by instinct, becomes their bloody puppet. This closed world of ancestral tradition and hyper-masculine ritual feels raw, disturbing, and numbing—an exercise in endurance that borders on the nauseating. With no plot, no tension, and no real variation, the film becomes a pointless nightmare.
Repetitive and displeasing, Afternoons of Solitude stands as an ode to barbarity that leaves you wondering, almost in disbelief: is this seriously never going to end?
