In its opening sequence, Little Ashes introduces three characters: a brash, pushy filmmaker, a shy yet fiery writer and an eccentric painter wearing a Seinfeld-style puffy shirt. These are Luis Buñuel (Matthew McNulty), Federico García Lorca (Javier Beltrán) and none other than Salvador Dalí (Twilight star Robert Pattinson), three of Spain’s most legendary talents. While their creative efforts are featured throughout, it’s the men’s intertwining relationships that are the subject of this enjoyable yet exceptionally silly art-history soap opera.
Lorca’s attraction to Dalí is made apparent almost immediately, with the two burgeoning stars developing a quick kinship separate from the more straight-laced Buñuel. Egging each other on, the writer and painter become more daring, subversive and inspired each day, sharing the simple credo “no limits.” This blossoming attraction is depicted with the camera casting lingering glances over the men’s faces and fingers, finally (almost) culminating in a moonlit underwater scene that wouldn’t seem out of place in Twilight itself. However, despite their clear connection, Dalí remains conflicted.
Though Pattinson’s portrayal of the young surrealist is extremely over-the-top, one can’t help but imagine this is how Salvador himself might have been at age 18, working so desperately to develop his weirdness. Tackling the role with a combination of relish and caricature comparable to David Bowie’s portrayal of Andy Warhol in Basquiat (1996), it’s clear Pattinson was excited to wear one of the world’s most notorious mustaches. As time moves forward, Dalí’s fame grows alongside his facial hair, following him from his earliest paintings to the influential short film Un Chien Andalou. Squeamish viewers beware: Andalou’s still jolting eyeball-slicing sequence is flashed onscreen just long enough to provide some serious heebie-jeebies.
Outside of its star power, Little Ashes takes aim squarely at art-house audiences with less than stellar results. On top of several cringingly obvious metaphorical montages (religious imagery mixed with men wrestling to represent repressed urges, get it?), the film also includes one of the most oddly uncomfortable sex scenes since Blue Velvet, a squirm-inducing sequence that will likely shock many of Pattinson’s more innocent fans.
In the end, Little Ashes’ lack of authenticity is compacted by the cast members speaking their lines in English with exaggerated Spanish accents, in what can only be understood as pandering to viewers too lazy to read subtitles. Dalí and Lorca’s love affair provides a captivating story, yet it’s unfortunate it was tackled with so little tact.
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