‘Magellan’ Review: Gael García Bernal Plays the Famed Explorer in Lav Diaz’s Mesmerizing, Myth-Busting Biopic

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According to the standards of renowned Filipino director Lav Diaz, who is known for his lengthy films and formalist approach, “Magellan” can be considered a truly epic production. This grand-scale historical biopic, featuring internationally recognized actor Gael García Bernal, marks a significant departure for Diaz as it’s his first color film since his 2013 hit “Norte, the End of History.” Remarkably, despite being one of his shorter works, clocking in at only 160 minutes, it still offers an engaging experience for dedicated fans who endured the over 10-hour-long “Evolution of a Filipino Family” and other extensive Diaz productions. While the term “accessible” might not fully apply to Diaz’s unique filmmaking style, “Magellan” represents one of the most approachable works from this visionary director.

Essentially, “Magellan” offers Diaz’s most recent attempt at reaching general art house audiences, but it’s not a creative concession. This film embodies the essence of slow cinema, presenting a captivating yet somber portrayal. Unlike a traditional biographical adventure, it challenges viewers with a raw post-colonial perspective, shattering any romanticized image associated with the famous Portuguese explorer. In essence, “Magellan” serves as a panorama of the devastation caused during the Age of Discovery, where one culture’s triumph was another’s tragedy. It’s a thought-provoking and subtly captivating depiction, though it screened in the non-competitive Cannes Premiere sidebar; a Competition slot would have been fitting for such a powerful and substantial work.

As a movie enthusiast, I’d put it this way:

“In the opening scene, set in the ancient Malacca state back in 1504, before the Portuguese took over, I found myself transported to a pristine, tropical landscape, untouched by time. The earth was rich and silty, and the vegetation swayed gently as if whispering secrets to the wind. In this serene tableau, reminiscent of Malick’s work, an indigenous woman, unclothed and at one with nature, went about her daily tasks near a river. But her tranquility was shattered when she encountered a stranger – a white man. She recoiled in fear, her alarm echoing through the forest. Eden had been breached.

Soon, the idyllic scene transformed into a chilling tableau of stillness. Bodies of indigenous people lay scattered across the once-pristine land, their wounds telling tales of violence and conquest. We saw these images from a distance, as if respecting their dignity, or from the detached perspective of those who wielded the weapons.

The movie “Magellan” often portrays the somber consequences of battles instead of their violent occurrence, which might be due to budgetary limitations, but it effectively avoids any dramatic or grandiose depiction of colonizers. In this film, a subdued and fittingly cast Bernal receives only a few close-ups, with most shots being wide angles by Diaz and his cinematographer Artur Tort — a frequent collaborator of Albert Serra, whose minimalistic and revisionist style in filmmaking seems to have impacted here. The meticulously arranged frames seldom focus on people over their natural or man-made surroundings.

Or:

In “Magellan”, the aftermath of battles is predominantly shown instead of their actual occurrence, a choice that refrains from glorifying colonizers in any dynamic or grandiose manner. The lead actor, Bernal, is sparsely captured in close-ups, with director Diaz and cinematographer Artur Tort favoring wide shots for most scenes. This approach appears to be influenced by Albert Serra, whose minimalistic filmmaking style is marked by revisionism, which is evident in the film’s compositions that prioritize landscapes over human subjects.

Both versions maintain the original meaning while using simpler language and a more conversational tone.

The movie initially depicts Magellan’s initial triumphant voyage, but then focuses on the subsequent 15 years or so of his ambitious, relentless career. Although Diaz doesn’t strictly adhere to historical facts and timelines, the film effectively conveys the mood of Magellan’s life through a series of increasingly somber and tense scenes. Some key moments are repeated with varying degrees of despair, shifting perspectives subtly among them. The script intertwines Magellan’s story with that of Enrique (played by Amado Arjay Babon), a Malay slave purchased by Magellan who becomes his westernized right-hand man. Over time, Enrique gains his freedom but remains lost and fractured in terms of identity.

Reflecting on my days in Lisbon, I found love with Beatriz (Angela Azevedo). However, our bond was strained as my sea-bound devotion consumed me. In Diaz’s poetic portrayal, these wives of colonialism are depicted as sorrowful, mournful figures, victims of their husbands’ insatiable thirst for exploration and possession. The heart of the film unfolds during a three-year journey plagued by disease, to the Malayan Archipelago. During this voyage, I transformed into a ruthless, relentless commander, inciting a brutal campaign of conquest and religious conversion in the Philippines. Here, Raja Humabon (Ronnie Lazaro), a defiant tribal leader from Cebu, orchestrated a clever resistance against my oppressive rule.

The artistic depiction in “Magellan’s” visual narrative, crafted by Diaz and Tort with rich, deep oil-paint colors such as hunter green, storm blue, and wet clay, doesn’t soften the raw terror portrayed in the film’s extended scenes. Instead, unsettling acts of violence, juxtaposed against a serene aesthetic, create a stark contrast. The soundtrack is absent, leaving only the somber sounds of the elements over the gruesome remnants of human conflict, or the mournful groans of a galleon rocking on waves as sailors meet tragic ends. In this hypnotic, relentlessly pitiless deconstruction of the Magellan legend, the land and sea stand resilient in the face of man’s futile efforts to conquer them.

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2025-05-28 17:47