Ruth Caudeli directs and stars in Petit Mal, a subversive Colombian romantic drama about a polyamorous relationship between three young women. The title refers to something called an “absence seizure,” which causes lapses in consciousness. But Caudeli plays with the wording to indicate a person’s absence in a relationship, and the altered states of consciousness of those who are left behind to rebuild a relationship anew. In examining the complexities of an unconventional scenario, Petit Mal gives poignant reflections on love and renewal.
Marti (Sylvia Varón), Anto (Ana Maria Otálora), and Laia (Caudeli) live together as a throuple in Colombia, but their bliss is threatened when Laia has to go away for several months on a work trip. Laia is clearly the center of the relationship. Marti and Anto hunger jealously for her affection; she sleeps in the middle of their shared bed. Her departure causes an absence in Marti and Anto’s lives to create an unequivocal change in the nature of their own relationship. At one point before Laia’s trip, Marti films each of their takes on the challenges of being in a polyamorous relationship for a documentary she’s making about their lives. Their answers are about jealousy, balance, and spending equal time together. But once Laia is gone, it’s suddenly real to them that they have been failing at their own standards.
Caudeli evokes for her romantic drama the void left by Laia with a shift from color to black and white. It’s a creative decision that, although a bit obvious, isn’t as simple as it initially appears to be. More than strictly Laia’s absence, the depletion of color implies the work that has yet to be done on Marti and Anto’s relationship. There’s a sense of deep sadness and loss in the time Marti and Anto spend on their own, without Laia. But there’s also a beautiful progression of seeing a love be born anew through this trial. While building a relationship from the ground up, Marti and Anto are simultaneously putting in the difficult work to maintain a long-distance relationship with Laia. Their story is attests that a throuple comprises not only one bond but additionally three one-on-one connections. Petit Mal reminds us that, although polyamorous relationships are relegated to a niche place in modern society, they are similar to any relationship in practice.
When Marti sends in her documentary of their lives as a throuple, she keeps receiving the same feedback: Be more original. Anto is aghast. After all, what could be more original than their very lives? Similarly, if you go into Petit Mal expecting an original twist or some explosive drama to do with being in a polyamorous relationship, you’ll be disappointed. Caudeli eschews vexing demands of originality to create something more quietly resonant. Ultimately, the romantic drama is an extraordinary picture of ordinary love. Highly recommended.
What public library shelves would this title be on?
Petit Mal belongs on narrative film, drama, romance, LGBTQ+ and Spanish-language public library shelves.
What kind of film collection would this title be suitable for?
Anyone looking to build their collection of foreign-language, LGBTQ+, or female-directed films would do well to purchase Caudeli’s queer romantic drama.
What kind of film series would this narrative film fit in?
Petit Mal would fit right into a film series featuring queer stories that break the mold (a kind of film Caudeli is no stranger to directing).