Watching this movie reminded me of the blurry photographs of British children playing in the ruins of London during the Blitz. If a building were bombed today, the unsafe structure would be guarded by cops to keep the children from being buried in the rubble. But, when the city is being bombed every night, what's the difference in whether a child dies from bombíng or under a pile of loose bricks? War brings death and death becomes normal.
In the bucolic and gorgeous mountains of Jalisco, war is constant and unending. Flickering fire flies have been replaced by the lights of cell phones as villagers try desperately to get a call "to the other side" for money to leave. Staying means enslavement to the cartel and losing your daughters to brutal sex trafficking. Instead of bombs, the cartels and the useless police rain terror on the adults in the village. Everyone knows a dead girl, and everyone knows how to harvest opium. And everyone knows to run when the US helps Mexico spray chemicals on the poppy crops.
Yet, just as the London kids entertained themselves with soccer, school, story telling and friendships, so too do the children in the village in Jalisco. What terrifies their parents simply is business as usual to them. They can't help growing up in war, but they are growing up. They want to dance, go to rodeos, date - every day things that are death defying in Jalisco.
It's an excellent movie about how the human spirit survives the unthinkable.
I want to tie Americans to chairs to help them understand exactly what American drug habits, the War on Drugs and the crisis in Central America is doing to desperate, terrified people. I want them to understand that they aren't coming heee for handouts. I want them to understand that they are coming here to stay alive. I want them to see children burned with American pesticides.
The acting is astonishing, the cinematography brilliant and the story heartbreaking. And this story happens every day in Mexico.
