The year was 2021, and the place the Cannes Film Festival. La Civil, a co-production between Romania, Belgium, and Mexico, shocked the audience at the Un Certain Regard section with the poignant tale of a mother who is looking for her kidnapped daughter in the dangerous areas of Northern Mexico. An amazing performance by veteran actress Arcelia Ramirez helped the film to win the Prize of Courage. After a long tour through the biggest festivals in the world, La Civil is finally coming to theaters in the US. We spoke by Zoom with its director, Romanian born and Belgium based Teodora Mihai, who found in the Dardenne brothers, Cristian Mungiu and Michel Franco, the perfect supporting team to help achieve her dream: filming in Spanish what sounds and looks like a Mexican film.

La Civil made the news when it was presented in Cannes in 2021. It was released first in Mexico, later in your country and now it is coming to the United States. How does it feel that this film on which you worked for so long, is having such a long life?

It’s very important for me of course, because the process of making it was so laborious, it was so difficult and full of obstacles. But everyone who collaborated felt that it was something that we wanted to share with as much of the public as possible. And it’s no secret that in the United States the Latino community is very large and important. And so, for me it’s very important that it does reach them equally because actually my history with Mexico started in the United States, because I was a teenage girl in high school in San Francisco where a lot of my friends and colleagues were of Latin origin. That was how I learned about Mexican culture. And so, for me, it’s very significant that the film does get a long life and also goes to the U.S. cinemas, because I love the platforms, but I also love the cinema experience and I think that it does give you that plus. 

You worked on this story in documentary form for many years, and then you decided to move it into fiction. What do you feel that you lost by the switch, and what did you think you gained?

Tough question, because by making choices you always lose something – and win something, of course. There were very specific reasons why I made that switch, and an important one was the aspect of security. I was responsible for a whole crew and for the people I was filming, and I didn’t want anything to happen to anyone. And I also felt liberated in the sense that, ironically, I could creatively capture the reality better than I could in a documentary. I felt like I was hitting some obstacles in a documentary that fiction solved for me because I could really process my observations and my thoughts in a freer way. So that was an important win. What I lost, of course, was that, although I knew a lot of the things that are mentioned are better touched upon in fiction, they also happened in different ways and to different people, because this was a large investigation of two and a half years, speaking to many different families. It was inspired by a lot of actual testimonies and of course these cannot be directly shared with the public. But I feel that stories sometimes find you first of all and that will also find a way of being told. That they have a certain need and they kind of let you know what it is, and you have to channel that and put it into a form that fits and that gives them time and space.

When the film was released in Cannes, a lot of outlets said that this is the story of Miriam Rodriguez, the Mexican human rights activist whose daughter was abducted and killed before she was killed herself after pursuing the killers.  How do you feel about that? It probably helped promote the film, but it is not totally true.

Yes, and I always make that distinction, I am very careful about saying that the protagonist is not based on Miriam Rodriquez, she is inspired by her. I filmed (Miriam) and had long talks with her and I knew her quite well, but also, like I mentioned, I did an investigation for two and a half years during which I talked to many, many other people, and unfortunately, we can say that there are many Miriams in Mexico. There are many stories that have touched me on different levels, and somehow some details of those testimonies have become integrated into the fictional story of Cielo in La Civil.  It’s a fictional film that is heavily inspired by all these testimonies and the reality that I observed that I discussed with the co-writer; but it’s not a biopic of anyone and it’s important to make that distinction. 

Were you scared at any point? Because Miriam was killed…

Yeah, she was killed on Mother’s Day 2017.  Luckily, we had decided to switch from documentary to fiction before that, so I didn’t have time to completely get scared. At the time we started filming, my Mexican crew and my friends were warning me, “Maybe you should rethink your project,” and I did, I did take that advice. And I realized my frustration at not being able to capture what I wanted despite taking a lot of risks and putting ourselves out there. And I was, like, this cannot be the way, there should be a better way, I am not out to point any fingers at anyone, I am not a politician, I am not a militant, I am a storyteller and I tell stories that I find relevant, that touch me in a very deep way. But that’s my role on this Earth. So, I thought, well, in that way I should make it as symbolic and as metaphoric as possible because this is not about one certain region, this is not about one certain person or one certain case or a particular cartel, this goes way beyond it and it’s something that is existential going on. I felt a need to elevate that story to that metaphoric level.

What was Michel Franco’s involvement in the project? 

As far as the script was concerned, he was not really involved. I contacted Michel because I was also a resident at the Cannes Film Festival a couple of years after him. So at the time I had to find a co-producer in Mexico, it kind of came naturally to reach out to him. I was already very well surrounded by three Golden Palm winners, and the script and the story had been worked on quite elaborately at the time that we were about to shoot which was at the moment Michel came on board. 

And what about the input of the Dardenne Brothers and Cristian Mungiu?

They read the script several times, and we had several talks. I was very lucky that I could reach out to them when I was in doubt or in need of advice, but they never imposed anything, which was very nice, because I was originally intimidated by these people. I had partially formed my own career watching their films and admiring them. So, I was lucky that they would give me advice without telling me, “You must do this, you must do that.” They were very respectful of my own kind of creative process as an author. And then they did not travel to Mexico – it was during the COVID period, which complicated everything. And when I came back with the material, I got them involved again when I felt I had something solid enough edit-wise to ask for their feedback. They advised me on that, and I followed some of their advice and I did not follow other parts, and that’s how it goes and that’s what respectful creative collaborations are about.

 I can see some connection between Romania and Mexico, especially the Romania you grew up in.  But why do you think Mexico had such an attraction for you?

You are right in pointing out the similarities and the kind of feeling of familiarity between the two cultures and between the experiences I had in my childhood in Romania, which was where I was born, under the communist regime, when people could not fully trust their friends, their neighbors, sometimes even their family. It’s a very particular way of growing up, with this kind of distrust in the back of your head. And it’s something that I realized was happening in Mexico as well, through my friends and acquaintances. I happened to know a lot of people in the North especially, which is of course an area that is very much affected. My first film was about post-Communist Romania and about children growing up in very challenging circumstances in which parents were still leaving the country, not for political reasons but for socio-economic reasons because they were leaving their kids behind to go work in the West to send money home, which, again, is something that happens in Mexico and Latin America in general a lot, people trying their luck in the U.S. and sometimes they find it, sometimes they don’t. So, there were just so many parallels. In 2012, while I was still working on Waiting For August I visited friends in the north of Mexico, on the border of Texas. And I was advised not to leave the house after 7 PM. I was writing about this reality in Romania and how kids are having difficulties growing up there but what is it like here in this Mexican reality that I am living in right now, what is it like to be a parent in this kind of environment, what is it like to grow up, what is it like to be a teenager in this place?  My mind started making bridges between the Romanian reality and the Mexican reality. I just felt like there was something there for me to tell. I never go for subject matters that are easy, but for subject matters that really intrigue me, that pound on my head and ask for answers – which I didn’t find, by the way. But I think that keeping the debate going until there is some kind of positive evolution is important.

Do you think it’s a good time to be a woman director right now, or do you feel the situation still needs improvement before you can achieve real equality?

You know, it’s difficult for me to answer that because I never see myself as, in terms of filmmaking, as a woman filmmaker: I am a filmmaker. I want to tell stories and I don’t like to think about these gender roles. But of course, I know there is an inequality, and I am very vocal about certain things that affect women more than men, for example motherhood or parenthood.  I think for women it is just a little bit more tough to combine the two. So, I am doing my best to change the mentality of our filmmaking community, I am very active in that. But when making films, I really try not to think in terms of gender, for myself or for my audience.  I really want both men and women to be interested – hopefully – in what I make and the subject matter I explore. But I think there is a lot of opportunity for women and that we can improve and be more understanding in the specific needs of combining family life with filmmaking. That is a sensitive point that we really need to be aware of – why sometimes it is that women start well but do not evolve.