Hot Mustache-on-Mustache Action

Come for the gay sex, stay for the fucked-
up straight marriage.

To celebrate Pride Month this year, I decided to go back, via Netflix, to the late 19th century, when homosexuals remained in the closet if they knew what was good for them and when men could really rock handlebar mustaches.

The movie in question is the 2020 Mexico-Brazil co-production DANCE OF THE 41 (El baile de los 41), a biopic about Ignacio de la Torre y Mier, a wealthy Mexican businessman and politician in the late 1800s. When we first meet Ignacio (Alfonso Herrera), he’s late for his engagement party, which does not go unnoticed by his future father-in-law, Porfirio Díaz (Fernando Becerril), Mexico’s president. Ignacio’s tardiness doesn’t bother his fiancée, Amada (Mabel Cadena), who’s too in love to believe her rich, handsome future husband has any flaws, or to see that Ignacio is just using her to gain leverage in Mexico’s government. 

Amada’s father has already appointed Ignacio a position on Mexico’s Congress, the President Díaz reminding him that “what is given can be taken away.” But there should be no danger of Ignacio losing favor with his father-in-law as long as he makes Amada happy … and as long as he keeps his love of cock on the downlow. 

It won’t be easy, however. As Dance of the 41 makes clear, Ignacio really loves cock, like, a whole bunch. So much so that he struggles to go through the motions on his wedding night (that he guzzles champagne beforehand doesn’t help matters). 

Ignacio prepares to introduce Amada to the concept of
“champagne dick.”

Ignacio seems to think living in a fully staffed mansion is enough to distract Amada but is horrified to discover that his young bride would also like the occasional orgasm.

Amada barks up the wrong tree.

 

The more things change...: Eva cruises Ignacio.

But the wealthy politician can’t be bothered, not when he’s found himself a hot side piece, Evaristo “Eva” Rivas (Emiliano Zarito, who really had me re-examining my resistance to handlebar mustaches), a young government attorney. The two first cruise each other in the halls of the administrative building, then are later making out in Ignacio’s office. It’s not long after that initial meeting that Ignacio sponsors Eva’s membership into the 41, a secret society of elite homosexuals (including several members of government). Once Eva becomes the 42nd member, he and Ignacio begin a full-fledged affair.

Eva presents himself to the members of the 41, a ritual
that’s not too dissimilar to what today’s gay man must do
to gain acceptance at the Miami White Party

Also similar to the Miami White Party, minus the
GHB and molly.

As Ignacio’s and Eva’s affair intensifies, Ignacio’s marriage deteriorates, with Ignacio moving to a separate bedroom and angrily rejecting Amada’s sexual advances. I’ll admit my sympathies were torn. Ignacio, clearly, is in hell, chafing at having to keep up appearances and only able to feel alive when he’s in Eva’s company. At the same time, his privilege as a man allows him stifle Amada’s complaints with impunity. He may be leading a double life, but Amada, so depressed that she’s taken to treating a goat kid as if it were her own baby, isn’t even living one life.

Amada meets her competition.

But Amada isn’t a total doormat. During one of Ignacio’s many absences, she searches his office and finds a love note from Eva. So, like any aggrieved wife, she invites Eva over for a drink. Ignacio is understandably mortified — and incensed at Amada’s snooping. The movie not-so-subtly implies that Amada might be willing to let Ignacio have his fun with Eva, so long as he gives her children. Ignacio attempts to impregnate her, showing all the passion that the phrase “attempts to impregnate” implies.

Yet still more tender than most internet porn.

His seed fails to find purchase, however, and when it comes to getting his wife knocked-up, Ignacio’s attitude is clearly, if at first you don’t succeed… tough shit, ’cause I’m not going anywhere near that pussy again if I can help it.

But Ignacio can’t ignore his father-in-law so easily. Porfirio Díaz makes it clear that he wants grandchildren, then assigns bodyguards to protect (i.e., spy on) Ignacio. It will take more than the president’s espías to keep Ignacio from attending the 42’s drag ball, however. Rocking an emerald gown as he and Eva swing around the dance floor, it’s one of the happiest nights of Ignacio’s life — until the police show up.

Ignacio drags Eva onto the dance floor.

Dysfunctional Marriage Overshadows Gay Love

It doesn’t get better for Ignacio.

I read one review that described the first two-thirds of Dance of the 41 as slow, but I found it thoroughly engrossing. However, I thought Ignacio’s and Amada’s unhappy marriage was more compelling than Ignacio’s and Eva’s romance. Much of this was owed largely to the character Amada, and Mabel Cadena’s portrayal of her. Amada could easily have been relegated to weeping in the background while Ignacio has fun with the boys. Instead, she’s given a greater arc, and the audience is allowed to see her transform from a naïve girl to a steely manipulator (she’s casually brutal in her final scene), and it’s fascinating to behold.

Ignacio and Eva lock handlebars.

This isn’t to say the guys disappoint. Alfonso Herrera and Emiliano Zarito generate a lot of heat together as Ignacio and Eva. However, Monika Revilla’s script doesn’t fully develop them as men. Eva seems almost solely defined as Ignacio’s hot lover; we don’t really get to fully know him beyond his affection for Ignacio. Ignacio is shaded in a bit more, but only lightly. There are only a few superficial nods given to Ignacio’s political career, although that might have as much to do with him not being much of a force in Mexican politics as a storytelling choice. Still, a little more detail about his politics might have given a more complete picture of Ignacio beyond his (alleged) homosexuality. 

Sword fight!

By choosing a subject whose notoriety is based on rumors rather than verifiable fact (not to mention all involved are long dead) Revilla and director David (Las elegidas) Pablos have considerable leeway to embellish Ignacio’s story, yet they make the same mistakes of so many biopics: depicting a series of events in their subjects’ lives without ever really getting to the heart what made them tick. Dance of the 41 tackles the story of Ignacio de la Torre y Mier with a lot of finesse yet it still doesn’t provide much deeper insight beyond “it sure sucks to be gay in late 19th century Mexico” and “don’t assume your wife is stupid, especially if her father is the president of Mexico.” 

At least Pablos doesn’t shy away from imagining the more lurid aspects of the 41, including a fairly explicit orgy sequence. Yet Dance of the 41 never crosses the line into sleazy (not that I’d complain if it did). On the other hand, the movie is so stately that even at its most tragic Dance of the 41 never quite packs the emotional gut-punch expected from it. It’s more akin to a lustier Merchant-Ivory production than Brokeback Mountain.

Dance of the 41 is still very good, it’s just that, despite all the Big Mustache Energy of the two male leads, the movie’s doomed gay romance isn’t as interesting as Ignacio’s unhealthy beard marriage.

Ignacio’s and Eva’s story has its moments, though.