Critics reviews

The thematic focus on the interconnectedness of sex and crime suggests the influence of Jean Genet, while Ortega’s flashy direction recalls the exuberance of movies like Goodfellas and Boogie Nights. The form and content never really jibe, but this might get under your skin anyway.

Carlitos’s sole reason for living is moving from one transgression to the next. The same might be said of the movie, which superficially probes his amorality while exploiting it for slick thrills.

Gorgeously shot by Julián Apezteguia and art-directed within an inch of its life, El Angel feels more than anything else like a lavishly decorated vitrine for the extraordinary exotic found object that is Lorenzo Ferro—a sullen, sultry wunderkind who could have walked out of a Caravaggio picture, with just a dash of Harpo Marx at his most satanic.

The film sticks with this energetic, amoral agenda, and manages it pretty well from a craft perspective; along the way it shows a fair amount of intelligence and psychological insight that sometimes coexists awkwardly with its wish to entertain.

Ortega’s unapologetic punk attitude translates in the film’s highly entertaining and seductive style, and while El Angel lacks an underlying argument it consistently dazzles. Like its protagonist, it’s just so damned attractive.

Ortega has delicious comic timing and a gift for knowing precisely when to cut, and his jagged humour makes the film funny throughout.