Panamanian Ana Endara, an accomplished documentarian (For Your Peace of Mind), directs Beloved Tropic (Querido trópico) with an expert hand in her debut fiction feature, which premiered in Toronto and screens in San Sebastian’s Horizontes Latinos. She also wrote the screenplay together with Pilar Moreno, who co-directed her documentaries. The film’s subtle twists and turns allow an unlikely sisterhood to flourish, defying class barriers, a foreign land, and mental decline.
Being a childless woman has become a topic for public discussion and even an issue that affects the U.S. election campaign. In Beloved Tropic, both characters are childless. Mercedes (Mechi), a wealthy matron, is lonely despite having raised children who now keep their distance. The other, Ana Maria, is her caregiver who obsessively longs for – or mourns – a baby.
Chilean actor Paulina Garcia (Berlin Silver Bear for Gloria) is outstanding in her portrayal, warts and all, of Mechi. Her live-in minder, Ana Maria, played by a restrained and at times submissive Jenny Navarrete (The Other Son), is a Colombian immigrant with precarious resident status in Panama. The older Mechi is showing signs of dementia, but retains some haughty behavior that becomes increasingly irrelevant and even humorous as she tries to hide her vulnerability. The subtle tensions between these two lonely women keep the story moving and help explore issues of loyalty, co-dependency and social entrapment.
Beloved Tropic avoids being overly sentimental by showing Mechi’s capricious tantrums and temptations: she refuses to use a walking cane; she indulges in cigarettes and smears strawberry jam all over her face. She is losing her wits while trying to retain her dignity. These women from Chile and Colombia discuss the merits of Panama’s tropical climate: Ana Maria’s nostalgia for her native Cali is conveyed with the subtle sound of wind chimes and rolling waves. The camera shows her boxed in and framed through a hospital maternity ward’s windows, or her employer’s suffocating closet. She channels her longing and loss through a fake pregnancy; it is heartbreaking to hear her conversations with actual pregnant women in doctor’s waiting rooms and casual encounters, where careless words hurt her feelings.
Mechi is fully integrated into Panamanian high society, but she is still an outsider, exasperated by the humid heat of the tropics and longing for the cooler climate of her native Chile. Her children have grown and drifted away, avoiding responsibilities for their mother’s well being. In the tradition of machista societies, Mechi’s three sons only show up for her birthday, while her only daughter solves household problems and administers her mother’s helpers. The sons are in convenient denial about Mechi’s severe decline, and her grandchildren flee when Mechi ruins a birthday celebration with her incoherence and incontinence.
The two immigrants illustrate the paradoxes of present day Panama City, which harbors hidden poverty amidst its glossy, luxurious lifestyle. The plot illustrates the plight of undocumented immigrants that occurs all over the world, but the specific Latin American class and wealth differences are aptly conveyed in décor, language, and clothing. We watch in amusement as those trappings gradually slip away as Mechi’s mind is freed of conventions, inhibitions and prejudices.
Endara’s experience directing documentaries shows in her attention to details that reveal status, moods and mindsets: Mechi’s lush orchid garden, the pouring rains, the sweltering heat, the swirling fans, the caged parrots, the proliferation of insects. The frantic buzz of Panama City is only glimpsed when Mechi escapes barefoot into traffic, surrounded by cars and steely skyscrapers. Her garden and the nearby park become refuges for both protagonists, where they can enjoy nature and nourishing rain water. Endara’s script incorporates eloquent small gestures: painting her client’s finger nails becomes an act of love and devotion for Ana Maria; sharing a soup awakens Mechi’s maternal instincts. Is Ana Maria too saintly? She shows extraordinary patience and resilience, but she is also motivated by the promise of a work permit (“mis papeles”). Her charge, Mechi, resents being treated like a doddering fool, but genuine bonds still blossom gradually between the two.
Endara’s feminist perspective never gets too didactic or heavy-handed. The film could have benefited from tighter editing, but its tropical torpor becomes a fitting metaphor for Mechi’s descent into dementia. It’s not all gloom and doom, however, as some subtle ironies and small joys punctuate the plot, and the two lonely souls connect, behaving like childhood friends, huddling under the rain and sharing confidences. Dementia even becomes a shield for Ana Maria’s lies, as nobody believes any truth Mechi might let slip out.
Beloved Tropic joins a growing list of films that deal with mental decline, in a world whose population rapidly ages. Paulina Garcia’s subtle, convincing performance joins the talented women actors who have portrayed that descent, among them Julie Christie, Julianne Moore and Glenda Jackson. Other great Latin American actors have portrayed the paradox of co-dependence between maids and mistresses (as Norma Aleandro does in Live-in Maid). Director Ana Endara can proudly claim her place among those classics with her Beloved Tropic, a compassionate and complex tale of two disparate women who provide solace and affection for each other.
Director: Ana Endara
Screenplay: Pilar Moreno and Ana Endara
Cast: Paulina García (Mechi), Jenny Navarrete (Ana María), Juliette Roy (Jimena)
Producer: Isabella Galvez
Co-producer: Joan Gomez
Cinematography: Nicolás Wong
Editing: Bertrand Conard
Sound Design: Carlos García
Production companies: Mente Pública, Big Sur Películas, Mansa Productora
World Sales: FiGa Films
Venue: San Sebastian International Film Festival (Horizontes Latinos)
In Spanish
108 minutes
