By Jeffrey Sipe and Nina Rodríguez
This is a new weekly column exploring the latest in Mexican cinema. We’ll be writing about the Mexican films coming out in cinemas and talking with the filmmakers, actors, and writers involved.
“Sanctorum” (Joshua Gil, Mexico, 2019)
Campesinos struggling to forge a sustainable life in the face of threats from both cartels and the military has spawned a number of Mexican features and short films in the past few years. In 2021, the film adaptation of Jennifer Clement’s novel, “Prayers for the Stolen,” was Mexico’s submission for the Best International Feature Academy Award, while the Guanajuato International Film Festival has screened shorts that focus on young adults faced with the decision of choosing between a life with the cartels or one of poverty.
Director Joshua Gil’s “Sanctorum” treads similar ground but adds a metaphysical context that’s unique within the genre. It’s both mysterious and magical without diminishing the reality of the violence and fear that has taken over the lives of those who know little beyond working the land. In the end, the story is quite simple. But its implications are enormous.
Shot almost entirely in mixe, an indigenous language spoken near Oaxaca, with mostly non-professional actors, “Sanctorum” depicts a farming village caught between the cartels and the military, with marijuana having now become the only viable crop. The cartel is paying peanuts to the villagers who cultivate the weed, while the military casts them as criminals working with the cartels. “It’s all I know how to do,” says one farmer, referring to farming.
The film opens with an old couple discussing a strange phenomenon—a sound “like a bell in the sky,” says one character—that has mystified the entire village. “Something is going to happen,” the old man says, and, indeed, the sound is a harbinger of things to come.
Gil also makes a plea through the character of the village’s teacher, the film’s moral center, during a community meeting to discuss the deterioration of the lives of the campesinos.
“The pain that we feel is enormous, and our patience has come to an end. The government thinks that we are criminals. And that is a lie. We are farmers, and we cannot do anything else. We only plant the weed in order to feed our children. We have no other option. Every day the narcos kill us, and when they leave, the army arrives. They humiliate us. They treat us like animals. They beat us. They attack our women. We cannot allow this anymore.”
This is the message Gil wants to convey, but he does not present battles between the campesinos, the cartel, and local officials. Instead, he presents an apocalyptic vision that is the universe’s way of putting an end to the inescapable evil that has descended upon the village.
“Sanctorum” is a film based on violence, but there is very little in the way of on-screen violence. We see it from afar; we hear it behind closed doors. We know about the sickening violence. But the lives of the campesinos are front-and-center, lives that were the same for centuries until the cartels moved in.
“Sanctorum” is a beautiful but challenging film—one that requires serious concentration on the part of the viewer. The effort is well worth it.
Having premiered at the renowned Venice Film Festival, “Sanctorum” opens in Mexican theaters this Thursday, September 22, and will screen in San Miguel at Compartimento Cinematográfico.
*Calzada de la Estación 59
