Content from Mente Pública

In Panama City, a Colombian immigrant employed as a home health aide, who harbors a secret, develops a touching and unexpected bond with a strong-willed, wealthy businesswoman struggling with encroaching dementia.

Summer vacation. Two sisters, Marina (17) and Luna (14), travel from Costa Rica to Panama to look for their absent father. While dealing with frictions that arise between them, they find space to explore their desires, new friendships, lovers, and skateboarding, on a journey toward emancipation where they discover the joy of the simple act of hanging out.

This beautifully integrated, multi-threaded narrative seamlessly interweaves six stories set in radically different locations across Central America, ranging from the tropical forests of Guatemala to the skyscrapers of Panama City. When a solar storm leaves the region without power, myriad dramas unfold over the course of five days during which all conveniences of modernity are stripped away. In Costa Rica, a pastor and his daughter worry for the future of their church, while in El Salvador, a grandmother and grandson make an arduous journey into the city. A husband and wife reconnect in Honduras, as a young couple nurses a mysterious stranger back to health in Guatemala. Meanwhile, in Nicaragua, a young woman prepares for her quinceañera and in Panama, a housekeeper grows exasperated with her demanding employer.

In 1975 French Oscar-winning documentary filmmaker Pierre Dominique Gaisseau traveled to Panama to make a film on the indigenous island-dwelling Kuna people. Accompanied by his wife and their daughter, Gaisseau lived with the Kuna for a year, gaining their trust and filming their most intimate ceremonies. He promised to share the resulting film with the community, but that never happened. Fifty years later, the Kunas are still waiting to discover “their” film, now a legend passed down from the elders to the new generation. One day, a hidden copy is found in Paris…While uncovering this fascinating story with humility and warmth, Swiss-Panamanian filmmaker Andrés Peyrot succeeds in capturing a true sense of culture and place. The result is simultaneously a cautionary tale raising questions around how and why documentaries are made and for whom, and a testament to the power of what it means to see yourself on the big screen.

"Why do I want to straighten my hair? Why have they made me believe that we should straighten our hair? These simple questions sparked a research that is now a counter-memory to the Panamanian history that has gone unquestioned for so long. This counter-memory was built by the hands of multiple Black women, friends who have found themselves in a similar situation."