Maria's Story: Twenty Years Later

admin — Fri, 30 Jul 2010 00:53:00 +0000

Interview with Monona Wali, Pamela Cohen

Earlier this month, I saw a twentieth anniversary screening of Maria's Story: A Documentary Portrait Of Love And Survival In El Salvador's Civil War at The Mission Cultural Center for Latino Arts in San Francisco. Before attending, I had an abbreviated understanding El Salvadorian politics, and the subject of the documentary, Maria Serrano. Filmed in 1989 by two young American women, Maria's Story reveals the daily struggles and heartbreaking memories that lay in the wake of the political unrest that ravaged her town in El Salvador. The film chronicled a two-month journey for all involved. Ultimately, the film unfolds into a narrative about Maria’s role as a leader of a Farabundo Marti National Liberation Front (FMLN) guerrilla camp, which was about being a mother, wife, and a community member. I recently spoke with the directors of the film, longtime friends Pamela Cohen and Monona Wali.

Were there moments during the filming of Maria's Story in which you felt that there were advantages to your position as women directors?

Pamela Cohen: I don’t know if a male director would have been drawn to Maria in the same way we were. We chose to put a female face on this war; we wanted to address the Che Guevara guerrilla image, because that’s not who was on the front lines.

Monona Wali: Because we are women, we were sensitive and committed to the human side of the story. There were times when we were drawn to the bigger side of the war, but beyond knowing the statistics, the instinct to stay close to Maria and stay close to her came from being women and cementing the relationship with her, which was affectionate, playful, and serious. I don’t know that a man would have been able to get that close.

Emeteria and Maria, two members of the community, discussed losing their daughters in the war. Hearing the details of how young women were victims in violent attacks in El Salvadorian towns effected me greatly. What were those moments like for you as directors?

Monona: With Emeteria, we had gone first to be with her in ’88 and lived in a repopulated community named Guarjila that we were going to use as a base camp. We had equipment, and it turned out that there was a huge military offensive, and we were stuck in a village. Emeteria was taking care of us; she was our mother during that time. It was the day of remembering the dead. She had come to San Jose Las Flores to be a part of that and knew us. We asked her, “How do you feel about this day?”

For Maria, it started in the bathing scene, and it came up spontaneously. We just wanted to get a scene. Every time Jose showed up, we turned the camera on because we didn’t know when they were going to be together again.

Pamela: But then we asked about it, and we knew we had to sit down with her to talk about it—that was separate. She was out of the country when Ceci was killed in ’87. That may be why she wouldn’t let go of Mijita (her youngest daughter) and made her a personal radio operator for the rest of the war.

How did your awareness about some of the issues raised in the film affect your work?

Pamela: It was six or eight months before we started editing. We thought, “After what we’ve been through… how can people not care?” We just felt like everyone had to know and were determined to finish it.

Cross-posted at Gender Across Borders

Written by: Maria Guzman, July 29th 2010

Sita Sings the Blues

admin — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 09:14:00 +0000

Directed by Nina Paley

Shadow Distribution

As an independent woman struggling to experience life for myself instead of through a man, I’m always looking for inspiration from other women who develop identities beyond being appendages or servants to men. As I was already familiar with the story of Sita, a Hindu goddess, I was curious to see how Nina Paley would present the story in her animated film. Simply going by the graphics, the movie is a fantastic exploration of the parallels between the ancient mythological world and modern day. The animation is split into three distinct segments which alternate: Sita’s journey, the three shadow puppet narrators, and Nina’s marriage, which spans America and India.

A polished and highly stylized production, Sita Sings the Blues is, surprisingly, Paley’s first full length film. Music, dance, and comedy fill the screen with bright colors and sounds and there is a mix of Indian flavor and 1920s jazz. The only visual that bothered me was Sita’s tiny waist line, giant boobs and matching swivel hips—then again, that image might be a deliberate mockery of feminist ideals on Paley’s part.

Sita and her modern sister, Paley, follow and devote themselves to their respectful husbands. Sadly, their loyalty isn’t enough to win reciprocal devotion from the men. Sita goes through trial after trial in her displays of devotion; she’s kidnapped by an evil king and her husband Rama accuses her of being unfaithful; she has his babies and he takes his sons back (but not her) and so on. Paley follows her husband across the globe to India where he shows absolutely no interest in her and, in fact, leaves her not only sexually frustrated, but alone.

As the two women continue to make sacrifices for their unresponsive men, the clever puppet narrators debate the difference between unconditional love and martyrdom. In the process, they help to explain the history behind the Sita myth. A fantastic film, it is free to all audiences under a Creative Commons License, so give it a view!

Written by: Nicolette Westfall, June 8th 2009

female director

Maria's Story: Twenty Years Later

Sita Sings the Blues