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By Juan Butten
Since April 10, a Dominican film has been showing that we could easily call addictive. Many of us who’ve watched it have gone back for more. Perhaps because, like the cursed substances consumed by its characters, this movie leaves a lasting impression.
La Bachata de Biónico portrays with stark realism—yet also with humor—the issue of drug addiction in the marginalized neighborhoods of the Dominican Republic. It’s a remarkable achievement by its creators, who dared to immerse themselves in a reality that most local audiovisual producers prefer to avoid. Perhaps because, as the song says: “the truth hurts.”
I first saw the trailer on social media, and later a friend told me she had seen the film and had been amazed by it. So I decided to go to the theater and dive into this story where, at times, the gritty smell of the streets seemed to seep through the screen. But I also reflected, and I laughed—a lot.
The story follows Biónico, a hopeless romantic struggling to leave drugs behind after rehab. He searches for a job, a home, and a dignified life with his fiancée, La Flaca. He is accompanied by his peculiar friend Calvita, played by El Napo. And El Napo isn’t playing a character—he’s simply being himself at full intensity, in his best version. Calvita is Biónico’s streetwise Sancho Panza, his twisted Jiminy Cricket, a malocorita accomplice, and in a way, the protagonist’s foul-smelling conscience.
The film’s emotional weight falls on Manuel Raposo, who delivers an outstanding acting performance. He guides us through every step of his descent into addiction, but also through the small joys and sorrows that shape his humanity. Biónico is neither a hero nor a villain: he is a victim. Like thousands of young people in the country’s poor neighborhoods, trapped in a reality without opportunities, excluded by a system that fails them, without real access to education. Young people who are victims of other victims—often their own parents—and who choose to escape reality through a rock, a cayao, or a peñón, as it’s called on the street.
A truly wonderful character is El Águila, played by veteran actor Héctor Sierra—a surreal figure who, with just two appearances, adds strength and magic to the entire film.
La Bachata de Biónico is a comedy that denounces. A satire that reaches sublime heights through its staging, naturalism, and bold storytelling. This film proves that what matters isn’t just the subject, but the seriousness and commitment with which it’s approached.
Let’s hope the filmmakers don’t fall into the temptation—as many already have—of turning cinema into just another business. Dominican cinema doesn’t need more commercial farces disguised as movies. It needs more bold efforts like this one. Because La Bachata de Biónico doesn’t just entertain—it stings, unsettles, and—above all—forces us to look at what many prefer not to see.
