On the State of US-Latino Cinema
by Salomón Flamenco
Y Tu Mamá También (2001) A couple of years ago, I had the opportunity to participate in a short meeting with a group of Latino film producers in the US. Now, I cannot lie to anyone; this was an amazing moment for me, one that I remain grateful for. I think it’s of vital importance that we tell our stories, lest we let others set the tone of conversation. But there was a point of conversation I heard multiple times, and it’s one I want to delve into today.
The most common refrain I remember hearing during this meeting and in conversations with adjacent persons in the following years went something like this - “We have to move beyond migrant stories and Narco shows. Where is our Crazy Rich Asians?”
The most common refrain I remember hearing during this meeting and in conversations with adjacent persons in the following years went something like this - “We have to move beyond migrant stories and Narco shows. Where is our Crazy Rich Asians?”
Crazy Rich Asians Crazy Rich Asians Crazy Rich Asians. This movie came up more than any other, more than Black Panther, more than Coco -- Crazy Rich Asians.
This is why it's problematic. First of all, Crazy Rich Asians has faced substantial criticism. It has been labeled as classist, accused of perpetuating colorism, and criticized for reducing Singaporean culture to an orientalist portrayal centered on food markets, devoid of the nuanced richness that defines the culture. It presents a reductive perspective on what it means to be both American and Asian. For a deeper exploration, I recommend a podcast I recorded earlier this year with Professor Sylvia Shin Huey Chong, who offers valuable insights into this subject.
This is why it's problematic. First of all, Crazy Rich Asians has faced substantial criticism. It has been labeled as classist, accused of perpetuating colorism, and criticized for reducing Singaporean culture to an orientalist portrayal centered on food markets, devoid of the nuanced richness that defines the culture. It presents a reductive perspective on what it means to be both American and Asian. For a deeper exploration, I recommend a podcast I recorded earlier this year with Professor Sylvia Shin Huey Chong, who offers valuable insights into this subject.
Crazy Rich Asians (2018)
"My plantation-owning family in Cuba had to abandon everything we had, but through hard work (and oligarchal connections), they became the accountants of the Bacardi family."
Placing Crazy Rich Asians on this pedestal of what a good project should be, this platonic ideal for a Latino film would be just as problematic as stories around migration and narcos, just aimed at a more bourgeois, purposefully unconscious class. Don't get me wrong, I understand the appeal of having these aspiration stories - capital accumulation, comfort, success, but really think about what that means in the context of Latin America, not only the United States but the entire continent of America. It isn't a pretty picture, and portraying it from this idealistic vision would be just as much a disservice to many communities as it would be servicing to others.
So now - let's talk about the other two. Migrants and Narcos.
Reynaldo Leal for The Texas Tribune
Jonathan Newton/The Washington Post via GettyI grew up in South Texas. Like, South texas. Like, however far south you’re going in your head isn’t far enough. I grew up in Brownsville, Texas - home to migrant crises and SpaceX and not much else. You cannot tell me immigration, migration, and, yes, narcos, are not part of the Latin American experience or story. It’s an unfortunate but highly present factor in our lives, whether we want to admit it or not, talk about it or not - to sanitize ourselves for white audiences does us a disservice. It keeps us from having difficult conversations about pervasive problems, problems that I would like to point out are fueled at their core by the United States and the grip the US has had on our countries and communities since at least the Monroe Doctrine, but as authors such as Ada Ferrer would point out, stem from our nation’s birth.
One more note about the Narcos - we all have our stories. You can pretend you don’t, but think really hard. Whether you’re from El Paso, Brownsville, LA, Miami, Orlando, The Bronx, Brooklyn - you know a guy. Why don’t they get to have their story told? What we should aim for, instead, is a critical look at how these stories happen and why some portion of our community would rather not have them told. If you don’t like how Narco stories make us look, instead of ignoring that thirst for Crime media (which is a core part of the American media landscape), why not change the tone of the conversation instead?
Scarface (1932/1983)
We shouldn’t aim for apoliticality. We should be as political as possible. Latin American cinema, and Third Cinema as a whole, is great for this exact reason. It aims for political relevance and goes out of its way to show our society’s flaws and to reckon with our political histories. That should be the goal, not imagined wealth porn that will only serve the minority of us, and which, I may point out, is coming at the exact worst time culturally and politically possible for such an exercise. We should look to La Haine, Touki Bouki, Boots Riley’s filmography (Sorry to Bother You/I’m a Virgo), Güeros, Y Tu Mama Tambien, Black Girl, Lulu Wang’s The Farewell, Barry Jenkin’s Moonlight, El Conde (2023), La Dictadura Perfecta, and countless other examples I have yet to see.
Güeros (2014)