Editor’s note: This review was originally published on September 3, 2026. Netflix will open the film in New York and Los Angeles on Friday, October 16, then expand wider before coming to Netflix on Friday, December 2.
Before “La Bola Negra” broke out in Cannes this May, cinephiles already knew about Spain’s hottest double act, Javier Calvo and Javier Ambrossi. They’ve been producing and directing multiple TV projects, most notably the mockumentary “Paquita Salas” (2016–2019), about a veteran talent agent adapting to modern celebrity; “Veneno” (2020): A lauded bio-drama about transgender television star Cristina Ortiz (La Veneno); and “La Mesías” (2023): A psychological family thriller mixing trauma, faith, and music. They directed the 2017 movie (“Holy Camp!”) based on their play. And Netflix backed their production of Yurena bio-doc series “Superstar” (2025).
Related Stories
So it was no surprise when Netflix scooped up “La Bola Negra,” their sophomore feature, which shared the Cannes Director prize with the venerated Pawel Pawlikowski (“Fatherland”). The period war epic, confidently backed for some $14 million, elegantly weaves three gay narratives from different periods that all elicit deep emotion. (The movie is on Spain’s shortlist of three for Best International Feature. The selection will be announced on September 16.)
The two Javis, who broke up after 13 years in the middle of shooting the movie, recently met with me at IndieWire’s Los Angeles office ahead of their movie’s second round of play at the fall film festivals, where it will relaunch at Telluride. They seemed friendly enough with each other: they are still writing, directing, and producing partners, with multiple projects in the works.
The duo started developing the script three years ago, after another project fell through. Calvo read the Spanish Civil War play “La Piedra Oscura” on a flight. “It called me somehow,” he said. “I started to cry in the first monologue. Sebastián talks about the bombing in his town, and how he loves his mother, and how he was playing in the local band, and all these images came to my mind. ‘Why is this touching me? This is a sign of something.'”
After Ambrossi read it, they agreed to build something around it. Within the play is a reference to Federico García Lorca’s “La Bola Negra,” which sent the writers down another rabbit hole. “We learned that there’s only four pages that exist,” said Calvo. “He could never end that play because he was killed. So suddenly another door was opened: Maybe we can reimagine ‘La Bola Negra.’ What if Federico could have finished that play? Maybe there’s a way we can connect everything.”
Before they could write, they wanted to find their lead, the reluctant revolutionary Sebastián. They discovered popular musician Guitarricadelafuente. “We thought ‘young little soldier, check,'” said Calvo. “Gay, check, has to be related to music, he has to learn how to play an instrument. We don’t want to fake that. Has to have music inside. Sad, sad, beautiful eyes. We were imagining that. War eyes, all eyes, all soul.”
“Suddenly, Guitarricadelafuente could be amazing,” said Ambrossi. “He signed up for the movie without the script. And we start writing with him in mind.”
The script came in at 156 pages, in three distinct parts. They connected the García Lorca story with the Spanish Civil War play, and added their point of view of the present, creating a fictional contemporary character, the disaffected academic Alberto (Carlos González), who could “talk about how important it is to honor the fight of the LGBT people that came before us,” said Ambrossi.
“It was necessary to touch ground,” said Calvo, “and say, ‘It’s not that far away when our relatives killed each other. It’s our grandfathers.’ García Lorca was killed in 1936, exactly 90 years ago. It was yesterday.”
The final edit is close to what the screenwriters intended, with a few scenes missing for length. “We write and direct, and we are the producers too,” said Ambrossi. “So we use the money where we want. As it’s very personal. It’s not like getting bigger made us lose our perspective or lose authenticity because we did it all. We got it.”
They used all they could of Penélope Cruz, whose agent called to ask if there was a role for her after an early press conference announcing the project. “We create a small movie for her,” said Ambrossi. “Two [musical] numbers. We read all the books from the time about the singers. She talks in a way those people talked in that period of time.”
Glenn Close wrote them an admiring email about their series “La Mesías.” So they wrote a part for her too, as a García Lorca expert. Close was willing to play a tiny role because she had to learn Spanish. While casting Cruz and Close enhanced the movie’s commerciality, nabbing a few extra production dollars, Los Javis say they did not set out to make a commercial movie. “It’s not designed to be popular,” said Calvo.
“There’s a political statement behind creating a big, bold, gay, epic period drama,” said Ambrossi. “Because sometimes you think that LGBTQ movies should be niche and small and indie for a specific audience, and we wanted to create a big movie in Spain. It’s as big as you can be.”
It was so big that it was a devil to shoot: many details, extras, and period locations. “Every day of shooting, it was war,” said Calvo. “It was so difficult. The bombing was real. No CGI.” They might not have pulled it off without a tight-knit crew. “We are good friends that worked together since forever,” said Ambrossi. “We grew up together, and we have a very deep connection. They believe in us, in our stories, and they allow us to create and explore and be mistaken and try again.”
After 13 years as a couple, making this movie about love and war drove the two men to separate midproduction. “It wasn’t upsetting,” said Calvo. “Every movie for us is cathartic in a way. We learn something from the things we write and it has to change us. And when we started to write this movie, we started to face passion and love and honoring the love stories that couldn’t happen in the past. We knew our relationship was going to either go one way or another after we cross this moving fire. Somehow in the middle of the shooting: ‘We should be family and not have a romantic relationship.'”
They weren’t fighting. “It’s not about that,” said Ambrossi. “It’s about when you’re writing about desire, and when you’re writing about impossible love, and when you face the fact that not so long ago, some people were not able to love, especially gay men and LGBTQ people. Then you force yourself to ask, ‘Am I honoring the past with my present?’ And the truth is we weren’t.”
Calvo added: “It’s about what happens when you deny yourself. You miss life. We’re writing all these lines: ‘Evolve. Don’t lie to yourself. Just be honest.’ We were mature: ‘This is over.’ But something new starts, way more beautiful, which is being partners. We’re writing our next movie, half in English, half in Spanish.”
Indeed, despite the breakup, they are going to keep writing and directing together. “Suddenly, it’s clearer, easier,” said Ambrossi. “We are good now in a good moment and open to life.”
While the Left is running the government in Spain for now, Los Javis still worry. “The Right wing is growing and growing and growing like everyone,” said Ambrossi, “so there’s a shadow of being back again. When I write, I try to have a purpose, and this was a purpose of visibility, of talking. About the past, putting out their stories that were silent. But suddenly can magic happen?”
“We were going to do something special,” said Calvo. “People were saying: ‘We’re going to do this. We’re going to leave our heart here.'”
“La Bola Negra” opens in theaters in Spain on September 25, and will play in cinemas stateside starting on October 16 for 47 days, an unusual statement from Netflix about its commitment to backing an Oscar movie with extended theatrical play. But if the awards season goes as the streamer plans, a journey that began in Cannes with a rapturous standing ovation, could end with Los Javis clasping some golden statues.