In Little Ashes, it's 1922 and Madrid is wavering on the edge of change as traditional values are challenged by the dangerous new influences of Jazz, Freud and the avant-garde. Salvador Dali (Robert Pattinson) arrives at the university; 18 years old and determined to become a great artist. His bizarre blend of shyness and rampant exhibitionism attracts the attention of two of the university's social elite - Federico Garcia Lorca (Javier Beltrán) and Luis Buñuel (Matthew McNulty). Salvador is absorbed into their decadent group and for a time Salvador, Luis and Federico become a formidable trio, the most ultra-modern group in Madrid. However as time passes, Salvador feels an increasingly strong pull towards the charismatic Federico - who is himself oblivious of the attentions he is getting from his beautiful writer friend, Margarita (Marina Gatell). Finally, in the face of his friends' preoccupations - and Federico's growing renown as a poet - Luis sets off for Paris in search of his own artistic success. Federico and Salvador spend the holiday in the sea-side town of Cadaques.
Were it not for a certain heartthrob du jour appearing in this sultry biopic of Salvador Dalí’s student days, Little Ashes might have passed quietly under the radar. But since wrapping on this, leading man Robert Pattinson has become global teen catnip thanks to "Twilight", so the crafty release date delay should ensure a built-in audience of quivering schoolgirls looking for their Pattinson fix. They’ll be in for a shock. There’s no dreamy neck-nibbling to be had here – just good honest arthouse gay sex, masturbation and nudity. Having portrayed a buff bloodsucker in "Twilight", teen heart-throb Robert Pattinson tries something very different indeed. A look at the early life of painter Salvador Dali, Little Ashes is an arthouse film filled with bare bottoms, full-frontal nudity and gay passion. You can practically hear Pattinson's army of girl fans weeping into their popcorn. Taking memories from Dalí’s contradicting autobiographies and set against the rise of Fascism, Philippa Goslett’s screenplay weaves an intriguing tale of lust, ambition and liberalism as Dalí (Pattinson) metamorphasises from shy dandy arriving at art school in ’20s Madrid to his bonkers bug-eyed persona – via an infatuation with fellow student, writer Federico Lorca (Beltrán). Pattinson proves his range exceeds looking sexy with fangs as he throws himself into the role with credible Spanish accent, pube-flashing and maniacal paint-splattering. Though he’s confessed to being uneasy acting his gay love scenes, he’s convincing in (relatively tame) mano-a-mano clinches; and by the time he’s poncing about Paris in the trademark Dalí moustache he’s deliciously repellent and narcissistic – a nation of teenagers will weep. What’s more, Pattinson is easily matched by newcomer Beltrán whose quiet, nuanced performance provides the smouldering heart of the pair’s bromance. But as with most artist bios, the unique genius of Dalí is a tricky beast to translate to screen, leaving director Paul Morrison to essentially paint a gorgeous mood piece with stunning images of the artist’s hometown, beautifully shot interpretations of Lorca’s poetry and smoky evocations of Europe’s pre-war avant-garde scene. The film is beautifully shot throughout, courtesy of Adam Suschitzky's lush cinematography and some impeccable production design work. Similarly, the performances are excellent and there's strong chemistry between Pattinson and Beltrán - their first kiss is surprisingly romantic. In addition, the script crackles with good dialogue, pulling off the tricky feat of sounding realistic while still engaging in spirited artistic debate. That's not to say the film is perfect – for one thing, Morrison lacks the courage of his convictions when it comes to the love scenes, almost as if the film had been retrimmed to cash in on the potential Twilight audience. It also threatens to tip over into so-bad-it's-good territory in places, particularly during the (sort of) threesome scene – the look on Dali's face is almost certain to induce unintentional giggles. Similarly, the film runs out of steam towards the end, limping towards a climax that lacks emotional weight and fails to deliver the requisite punch. Wretched and devastating rather than titillating, the pivotal homosexual love affair is beautifully and sensitively handled, resulting in an intense character piece throbbing with innovation and sexual repression. In short, Little Ashes is an engaging, sharply written drama about a fascinating period in time and three equally fascinating individuals. Worth seeing, despite its flaws. This gets a 3 on my "Go See" scale.
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