Humberto Suárez (José Luis Gómez), an aging benefactor, wants to leave behind a legacy, something that will live on long after he has passed.  He wants to produce the greatest movie ever.  To do so, he enlists the prolific director, Lola Cuevas (Penélope Cruz), whose unique style has garnered her many prestigious awards from the festival circuit.  Headlining the film is the young, hot-shot Félix Rivero (Antonio Banderas) and classically trained stage talent, Iván Torres (Oscar Martínez).  As tensions between the three artists flare as the rehearsals continue, the film becomes a bigger gamble by the day. 

Official Competition is a dark comedy directed by Mariano Cohn and Gastón Duprat with assistance on the page by Andrés Duprat, released in the States by IFC Films.  The film explores – and takes down – the various schools of creativity in a way that pokes fun but does not demean any school of thought.  It is truly focused on honoring the creators, while also pointing out some of the absurd lengths they go to for their work.  While the script certainly does not show favoritism, it is not seeking to condemn either.  In that way, it can feel a little esoteric as it dismantles different acting exercises and while the situational humor is universal, those who have some background in the performing arts are likely to find much more to latch on to here. 

Martínez shines in the film as the steadier of the three, but that is not to say he does not have moments of comedy, either.  He plays the self-serious straight man of the comedy for much of the first half of the 115-minute film, coming from a prestigious background in stage acting, and enjoys thinking about his character’s motivations and deepest desires to unlock the truth.  His screen partner, however, has a much more freewheeling and modern philosophy.  Banderas hams it up as Félix, a larger-than-life star with as much ego as he has talent.  The ideological clash between the two is the driving force of much of the humor in an opposites attract type of formula.  Much of it comes from Félix’s lampooning of social media icon as he goes on about the various charities for which he is desperately raising awareness or his overall lack of time management fueled by self-importance.  In lesser hands, Félix would be totally insufferable but Banderas turns him into a loveable goofball.  He disarms the audience of any animosity towards Félix with his charisma and charm so that we laugh along with the film as the actor’s antics unfold. 

For as much fun as the two men are having, Official Competition truly belongs to Cruz’s Lola.  With a mass of frizzy red hair, the new-age artist steals every scene she is in and it is palpable just how much Cruz is enjoying being able to lean into the ridiculousness of the film and throw restraint to the wind.  With that being said, it is not an over-the-top performance, either, and Cruz expertly steps into the wild nature of each sequence from a level beginning and allows the scenes to develop and grow in their absurdity as she modulates her performance to match.  From the moment she enters the first rehearsal and slams down a massive script-turned-scrapbook, the game is on as her performance only grows from there as she embarks on wild rehearsal exercises, lusty relationships with her actors, and even trying out some TikTok dances.   

Official Competition is a very carefully planned and executed film.  Much like how Banderas’ Félix could easily be blown out of proportion and turn the audience off from him, the entire film is always walking the tightrope of achieving the brand of humor it is looking for without pushing its audience away.  It is not an easy thing to do, but the writing and directing team are all working in tandem here, and with a stellar cast they are able to achieve something great.  It follows some familiar arcs as the three creatives all begin to learn something from each other, but do not be fooled; Official Competition is anything but conventional.  The final few moments do teeter into the depths of pretentiousness, but in a film that is a loving satire of the creative industry, it would be remiss not to touch upon the artificiality of the industry.