‘Y Tu Mamá También’, Masculinity, and Homoeroticism
In the year of its 20th anniversary, ‘Y Tu Mamá También’ continues to raise questions and strike up conversations about sexuality and self-discovery, with a unique stylistic approach unlike any other teen movie.
This article contains spoilers.
Y Tu Mamá También (2001) tells the story of two petulant teenagers, Tenoch (Diego Luna) and Julio (Gael García Bernal), who drive through the Mexican countryside with a woman they just met named Luisa (the fantastic Maribel Verdú). Upon reading a synopsis, this film might sound like any teen sex comedy, road movie, or coming-of-age tale, but its execution and stylistic form is far from average. Twenty years later, this monumental work from acclaimed Mexican filmmaker Alfonso Cuarón (Children of Men, Roma) continues to astound viewers with a lush atmosphere of objective realism and unparalleled explorations of masculinity, homoeroticism, and self-discovery.
This film could accurately be described as a “teen sex comedy”, but part of what separates Y Tu Mamá También from films like American Pie is its approach to its characters. The objective, omniscient third-person narration has these ignorant, naïve teens framed in total honesty, with unlimited perspective, and without bias. The voyeuristic directing does not ask us to relate to the characters but to wonder what they really desire. Tenoch, Julio, and Luisa are characters whose traits, organically detailed throughout the screenplay, convince us they are real people rather than talking bodies with lines to deliver. The film overall feels realistic not because of the story but because of the form with which it is told. Most of the scenes were shot in real-time with handheld cinematography, making the piece appear documentary-like. A sex scene seems as sloppy or awkward as any real sexual encounter might, devoid of slow-motion effects and a stirring score. The cinematography, from the masterful director of photography Emmanuel Lubezki, contributes to the film’s complex nature and environmental details. In one scene set in a small restaurant, the camera voyeuristically lingers on the main characters, and then later decides on its own to pan over and track behind an older woman who works at the restaurant, toward the kitchen where a group of older Mexican women is seen preparing the food. These environments are so rich with character it is hard to imagine a set being built or actors rehearsing. In a 2002 IndieWire interview, director Alfonso Cuarón stated,
“…it’s not a postcard. It was about decomposing, as opposed to composing the shot. It was about making it look improvised. [I wanted] to make a film that we would have loved to do before going to film school, when you don’t know how to shoot a movie or compose a shot. It was going to be a film school teacher’s nightmare. It was not about breaking the rules, but about not knowing the rules ever existed.”
Y Tu Mama También is highly aware of Tenoch and Julio’s heterosexuality — so much so that the film opens with an intrusive shot of Tenoch and his girlfriend Ana (Ana López Mercado) having sex. The two clumsily make love as they promise one another not to have sex with other people after Ana leaves for Italy with her friend Ceci (Julio’s girlfriend, played by María Aura). Tenoch additionally swears to Ana that he will not go out that night, as he will miss her too much. Julio and his girlfriend Ceci also say goodbye with brief coitus at Ceci’s parents’ house, mere seconds before her mother walks in as they shove each other away just in time. Tenoch and Julio say goodbye to their girlfriends at the airport, pronouncing how much they’ll miss each other, kissing and calling each other “sweetie”. We cut to the boys driving away from the airport, smoking, and farting in the car, proceeding to get stoned and go to a drug and alcohol-fueled party in pursuit of other girls. Tenoch’s mother almost catches the boys smoking pot, but she dismisses the thought, stating that their love for Ana and Ceci has clouded their judgment. By this point in the film, we know this is laughably incorrect. We are aware of how blissfully ignorant Tenoch and Julio are, and we know it isn’t love that has clouded their judgment; perhaps it’s the pot or their masculinity, but not love. At a luxurious wedding with Tenoch’s upper-class family, the two friends meet Luisa, Tenoch’s cousin Jano’s wife. In their teenage horniness, Tenoch and Julio try to impress Luisa by inviting her on a road trip to la Boca del Cielo (Heaven’s Mouth), a beach that does not exist. Luisa politely declines their offer and proceeds to desperately wipe a stain off of Jano’s white shirt (a stain put there accidentally by Julio spilling his drink).
Luisa’s character arc is one of self-actualization. She has spent her adulthood pouring all her energy into her husband’s life rather than her own. Although Luisa did not mind being a dutiful wife, she has determined enough is enough after learning of her husband’s infidelity. For the first time, Luisa has decided to take control of her own needs and desires. Tenoch, whose parents’ massive house is filled with books and historical objects, does not answer the ringing phone right next to him as he lies on the couch. His family’s housekeeper, who walks up the enormous staircase to serve Tenoch his lunch, answers the phone and hands it to Tenoch. On the phone is Luisa, who has chosen to take the boys up on their offer and drive to Heaven’s Mouth. Tenoch calls Julio, in a far less extravagant house, answering the phone in his underwear. After receiving some very sloppy directions to another beach from their stoned friend Saba, Tenoch and Julio pick up Luisa and hit the road.
Homoeroticism lingers throughout the film — a subtext that never leaves the story, regardless of whether the viewer wishes to experience the movie with a queer reading. It’s hard to dodge, I imagine, because Tenoch and Julio spend so much of the runtime more open and candid with each other than they possibly could be with their disposable girlfriends, whom they lie to and cheat on multiple times. The chemistry shared between stars (and childhood friends) Diego Luna and Gael García Bernal is dense and genuine, strengthening Tenoch and Julio’s connection. Before the road trip, the boys spend their days partying and swimming in the pool at Tenoch’s father’s country club. They masturbate together on diving boards, shower right next to one another, and make fun of each other’s penises as they wrestle and call each other derogatory gay slurs. Later in the film, Tenoch and Julio swim naked together in a motel pool filled with dead leaves. Most of their conversations involve sex and their penises, of which they know the exact measurements. Their bond creates something of a “no homo” energy within their dynamic. Tenoch and Julio are so heterosexual that they’ve seemed to lap it, creating a space where their friendship is the film’s romance. The problem is that their intimate bond is never spoken of, for this type of male intimacy is perhaps more easily presented in action than in words.
As the story unfolds, more truths are told. Julio sees Tenoch and Luisa having sex, and in a jealous act, Julio tells Tenoch he once had sex with his girlfriend, Ana. The boys fight all night long, only for Tenoch to admit to Julio the next day that he once had sex with his girlfriend, Ceci. They fight some more, they hurl classist insults at one another, and Luisa gets her bags from the car and understandably storms off, declaring, “Typical men! Fighting like dogs and marking your territory when all you really want to do is fuck each other.” Luisa realizes these boys aren’t so much “free-spirited” as they are young, immature, inexperienced, and naïve — an awareness not lost on the narrator. Throughout the story are stark reminders of the boys’ blissful ignorance and mortality. In between scenes of Tenoch, Julio, and Luisa smoking and having fun in the car, the narrator (voiced by Daniel Giménez Cacho) will cut in with a detailed description of a horrific nearby auto accident, or a startling truth about the off-screen future of these characters. The audience is constantly brought back from the high of irresponsibility and uncaring youth down to a sobering reality, a sensation compatible with the brutality of growing up.
Having reached the end of their journey, Tenoch, Julio, and Luisa drink multiple shots and countless beers later that night. Both Tenoch and Julio have gotten drunk enough that they’ve openly spilled the withheld raunchy details about how they had sex with each other’s girlfriends. They are closer and less restrained than they probably have ever been, without inhibition or a machismo filter. Later in their rented bedroom, Luisa and Tenoch kiss. On either side of Luisa, Tenoch and Julio undress and kiss Luisa as she slowly makes her way down to their crotches to give oral sex. Luisa has left the boys standing and facing one another. Tenoch and Julio kiss each other slowly and lovingly. The film cuts away to Luisa the following morning, having breakfast peacefully while the boys lie naked in bed together. Tenoch and Julio wake up simultaneously, and Tenoch immediately runs outside to vomit as Julio hurriedly puts his clothes on. Visibly uncomfortable, the boys drive back home while Luisa decides to stay in her newfound paradise.
In an epilogue, Tenoch and Julio have drifted apart but meet a year later for coffee. They appear far less energetic and lively than they had been, as life’s responsibilities have seemingly weighed them down. Tenoch explains to Julio that Luisa has died from cancer and that she knew she was terminally ill that whole time. Time did not allow for Tenoch and Julio to be ignorant and uncaring for much longer, as that youthful summer had long passed. Their inebriated encounter in the bedroom that night seems to have impacted their friendship, possibly revealing an unspoken, uncomfortable truth they were not willing to face. To grow up is to learn more truths, and the more truths discovered, the harsher reality might seem. Learning to navigate such an environment is a part of life, and Tenoch and Julio were on the cusp of this education. Luisa, who was older than Tenoch and Julio, partook in this youthful and carefree outlook the boys seemed to love so much, “truth is cool but unattainable”, only to realize they had yet to experience aspects of life and uncover certain revelations for themselves. Luisa’s arc closes as she finally fulfills her true desires.
The labels of Tenoch and Julio’s sexual orientations are left ambiguous. It is unclear whether the boys are genuinely attracted to men, though sexual fluidity is undoubtedly a line that is tip-toed around. With the exception of that late-night kiss, Tenoch and Julio do not commit homosexual acts so much as homoerotic acts. It isn’t unusual for two heterosexual male friends to be so close that they frequently see each other naked, or even masturbate together. The story of two friends going on a road trip with a sexy older woman should be any teenage boy’s fantasy. But with controlled character nuance and subversion of expectation, Y Tu Mamá También’s screenplay puts indulgence and happy endings aside and examines masculinity. After their same-sex kiss (and whatever else happened that night), Tenoch and Julio discontinue their once-close friendship. It is unsaid in the text whether this is because of that kiss, their class differences, or simply time itself. It does seem as though these hidden desires may have been a nail in the coffin of their friendship, but that is just a theory. Perhaps after years of being content with their “no homo” bond, they finally let their guards down and acted on what they truly wanted, and in the sobering light of day, they could not bear to swallow these fractured ideas of masculinity and desire.
Twenty years later, Y Tu Mamá También remains refreshingly original in its thematic execution and storytelling. Alfonso Cuarón’s unique deconstruction of traditional narrative filmmaking continues to echo in his work and has evolved beautifully. His subsequent films like Children of Men and Roma take a similar but further developed large-scale approach to realism, capturing lavishly detail-oriented environments in their most vivid forms. The subject of “growing up” is nothing new to cinema, but Y Tu Mamá También’s seemingly simple story approaches this topic with unique character studies that ask viewers to question their own ideas of sexuality and true desire. A generation later, Y Tu Mamá También’s comprehensive exploration of masculinity and teenage naïveté remains as relevant as ever.
Y Tu Mamá También is available to rent on Amazon, YouTube, and more.
