What shapes who we are? This is a central question in Carla Simón’s films, particularly in her latest work, *Romeria*. Like her previous films, this one draws from her own life experiences, exploring family ties and personal struggles.
Set in 2004, the story follows 18-year-old Marina (played by Llúcia Garcia) as she travels to Vigo, Galicia, to connect with her father Alfonso’s family. Armed only with her mother’s detailed journal, she aims to convince them to accept her so she can secure a film school scholarship. This is complicated, as both her parents died of AIDS, a fact their wealthy family tried to bury. Recognizing her could expose painful truths they prefer to hide.
When Marina arrives, her uncles and aunts offer varying degrees of warmth, but the cousins are less welcoming. Nuno (Mitch Martín), Lois’s son (Tristán Ulloa), becomes her ally, echoing Marina’s quest to challenge family dynamics. The grandparents’ hard edges have left a mark on their children, all of whom carry their own scars. Unlike them, Marina seems untouched by the family’s shadows.
The truth about her parents’ lives in the 1980s, however, is murky. Different family members offer differing stories, often at odds with her mother’s journal. But Marina is determined and resilient, even as the emotional weight begins to take its toll.
Simón’s visual storytelling is striking. She blends modern digital techniques with retro formats like DV and super-8, creating a unique aesthetic. The film’s look captures early 2000s nuances, such as the unmistakable ring of a Nokia 3310. The interactions among actors feel authentic, invoking a simpler time before smartphones dominated social life, though the film avoids a nostalgic vibe that might undermine its more serious themes.
The film is structured into five chapters, each set over a day that Marina spends with her family. This format highlights the complexity of discovering family members she only knows by name. Simón skillfully sets up a moment that could break the tension, using a touch of magical realism before leading viewers into an emotional flashback. This intriguing shift is both a plot twist and a moment of triumph for Marina, drawing from her mother’s journal in a way that resonates deeply.
Editing plays a crucial role in this film. Editors Sergio Jiménez and Ana Pfaff expertly weave together the various narrative threads, creating a cohesive whole. Each chapter offers a glimpse into family dynamics and past wounds, culminating in a powerful experience for viewers.
Simón is clearly evolving as a filmmaker. Her earlier films, *Summer 1993* (2017) and *Alcarràs* (2022), garnered critical acclaim and awards. *Romeria* premiered at Cannes and is enjoying a festival tour, reflecting her growing reputation in the industry. While this film might signal a turning point in her “auto-fictional” journey, it’s exciting to imagine where her creativity will take her next.
In a recent interview, film critics highlighted that Simón’s experience speaks to a broader trend among filmmakers who draw from autobiographical material, connecting emotionally with audiences. Similar sentiments were echoed on social media, where viewers expressed how deeply *Romeria* resonated with those grappling with their own family histories.
As most effective storytelling does, *Romeria* prompts us to reflect on our relationships and what we inherit — emotionally and culturally. Carla Simón is not just sharing her story; she is inviting us to examine our own.
For more on the themes of family and identity in film, you can check out this insightful report from the Guardian.
