Argentine director Marco Berger—an essential name in contemporary queer cinema—returns with The Astronaut Lovers (Los amantes astronautas), a film pulsing with sensuality and emotional intelligence. True to his signature themes, Berger delivers one of his most intimate and captivating works to date.

A Game of Desire and Confusion

Pedro, played by Javier Orán, leaves Spain to visit his cousin at a seaside holiday home in Argentina. Surrounded by friends and sunshine, the atmosphere is laid-back. Among the guests is Maxi (Lautaro Bettoni), a childhood acquaintance. The moment they reconnect, an undeniable spark ignites.

Maxi, newly single and openly identifying as straight, begins to engage with Pedro in a teasing, flirtatiously ambiguous way. He jokes, prods, and peppers their exchanges with suggestive comments. As the days pass, their interaction becomes an intricate dialogue filled with innuendos, shared secrets, and emotional tension. At one point, Maxi likens Pedro’s mystery to that of astronauts—who, he says, look nothing like what we expect. This playful metaphor gives the film its name.

Words as Weapons of Seduction

The true magnetism of the film lies not just in its visuals, but in its razor-sharp dialogue. With every line, the tension builds; every silence leaves space for interpretation. Pedro and Maxi engage in an unspoken roleplay, pretending to be a couple, pushing the boundaries between jest and genuine connection.

But where does the game end and authenticity begin? Is it all just banter, or does something deeper simmer beneath the surface? Their peculiar bond nudges the viewer—like the characters themselves—into a state of thrilling uncertainty.

Desire as Playground

As seen in his earlier works like Plan B, Taekwondo, and Le Colocataire, Berger excels in portraying the nuanced magnetism between seemingly incompatible men. Here, desire is nestled in subtle moments—a glance held a little too long, a near-touch, a cheeky comment. But The Astronaut Lovers breaks new ground by placing language at the center of its erotic tension.

Maxi talks—a lot—about himself, his past relationships, and even his most intimate features. Pedro, however, is far from passive. He responds with sarcasm, humor, and an intelligent vulnerability. Their verbal sparring becomes the very space where desire is articulated and intensified—more potent than any physical interaction.

Disarming Chemistry

The relationship between Pedro and Maxi unfolds like a tango—approaching, retreating, circling, and daring. Their connection feels light yet emotionally charged, echoing the kind of friendship-turned-flirtation usually confined to fantasy. The film captures this fluid bond with elegant precision, balancing sweetness with a simmering sense of longing.

The line between pretense and honesty blurs further as time progresses. The audience laughs, feels moved, and even grows tense. What if one of them is taking things more seriously? What if this flirtation isn’t mutual? The uneasiness of imbalance is ever-present.

Pure Cinematic Craft

Berger’s direction is exacting and evocative. Every frame is carefully composed to heighten the emotional stakes without tipping into excess or voyeurism. He drags out anticipation masterfully, creating a slow-burn tension that never fully releases—an impressive display of restraint and control.

Both leads deliver deeply felt performances. Their chemistry feels organic and charged, making even the subtlest exchanges compelling. They embody an unlikely duo perfectly caught between summer camaraderie and something far more intimate.

A Thoughtful, Sensory Queer Dramedy

The Astronaut Lovers is a rare film that blends humor, introspection, and erotic tension with remarkable fluidity. Berger examines desire with honesty and nuance, emphasizing the silent power of words and those fragile moments where everything can either shift—or collapse.

It’s a delicate, witty, and magnetizing film—one that both stirs and disarms. Easily among Marco Berger’s finest, it’s cerebral, sensuous, and unforgettable.