By Las Vegas PRIDE Magazine Staff
Photography courtesy of Project Publicity

This April, audiences are invited into the heart of Havana for a story that is as visually lush as it is emotionally raw. Cherri, the latest release from Breaking Glass Pictures, arrives on streaming platforms April 21, offering a deeply human exploration of love, vulnerability, and the courage it takes to begin again.

Directed by Fabián Suárez, Cherri centers on a character rarely seen in contemporary cinema: an aging, plus-size gay man whose life is defined as much by devotion as it is by desire. Cherri is a flamboyant antiques dealer, a passionate ballet lover, and the caretaker of his disabled husband. His days are filled with responsibility, but beneath the surface simmers a yearning for connection that refuses to fade.

That yearning takes shape in Tim, a young and charismatic security guard whose attention awakens something Cherri thought he had long buried. What follows is a tender yet precarious emotional journey—one where hope and heartbreak move in tandem. Even as Cherri suspects his affection may not be returned with the same sincerity, he presses forward, choosing vulnerability over safety.

Suárez doesn’t shy away from the contradictions at the core of his protagonist. “Cherri loves deeply,” the director has shared, “but love isn’t always logical.” It’s this tension—between knowing and feeling, between caution and courage—that gives the film its emotional weight.

At the center of Cherri’s power is the performance of Juan Miguel Más, a celebrated Cuban dancer and choreographer who inspired the film itself. Más brings a lived-in authenticity to the role, embodying a character whose body challenges traditional standards of beauty while simultaneously redefining grace. His presence is both political and poetic, confronting long-standing norms about who is allowed to take up space—on stage and in life.

Dance, in Cherri, is more than an art form; it is liberation. As the leader of a ballet troupe composed of larger-bodied performers, Cherri creates a world where movement becomes an act of defiance and self-acceptance. Each performance pulses with the idea that beauty is not confined to a singular form—it expands, evolves, and exists wherever people dare to express it.

Set against the textured backdrop of modern-day Havana, the film also captures a nation grappling with its own sense of loss and uncertainty. Through quiet, evocative imagery—empty rooms, cherished belongings sold off—Suárez crafts a subtle metaphor for a country in transition. Cherri’s personal loneliness mirrors a broader cultural melancholy, grounding the film in a reality that feels both intimate and universal.

Yet, despite its themes of longing and fragility, Cherri is not a story of despair. It is, at its core, a story of persistence. Of choosing to love again, even when the outcome is uncertain. Of finding joy in movement, even when the world feels heavy. And of embracing the fullness of one’s identity, unapologetically.

In a cinematic landscape that often sidelines stories of older queer individuals—particularly those who exist outside conventional beauty standards—Cherri stands as a necessary and moving counterpoint. It reminds us that love does not diminish with age, nor does desire disappear simply because society chooses not to see it.

As Cherri makes its debut, it offers more than just a film—it offers an invitation. To look beyond appearances. To embrace complexity. And most importantly, to believe that it is never too late to reach for connection, no matter how risky that leap may be.

This article was published as a digital exclusive for the 2026 Women & LGBTQIA+ Visibility Issue of Las Vegas PRIDE Magazine, which can be read in its original format here.