A low-angle shot makes the strident lights suddenly outline the protagonist and make him look as though he were a version of Jon Voight in a plausible Midnight Cowboy mixteca. Without reservations of any kind, with a pop-like aplomb and an eloquence that perhaps only belong to himself, Fuguet delivers a slightly melancholy comedy, with Instagram filters, Spotify songs, all kinds of apps that show his unquestionable devotion for the contemporary. A film about cruising and sexual encounters intervened by technology and interceded by popular culture: the gay undertones of the rancheras; with sweat, with love, with sleaziness, with real bodies, with the lonesomeness of the taco stands at 5am and the obstinate despair in the face of the new day.
