There's something so rare and precious about 'End of the Century'. Though barely an hour and a half long, it somehow dares to ask enormous questions about love and longing and desire that very few queer films on the relationships of gay men have asked before. At its heart, the film is a ghost story - as all great memory plays are - and you feel the presence of these ghosts in every exquisite frame. Lucio Castro has given us a real gift with his debut film, anchored by two quietly breathtaking performances. The more I think about 'End of the Century', the more potent its memory becomes. It makes...