With his debut documentary feature Comala, which premiered at the 2021 Toronto International Film Festival, filmmaker Gian Cassini crafts a profoundly personal story echoing larger challenges still prevalent in the Mexican society.
In Comala (Mexico, 2021), Monterrey-based director Gian Cassini investigates several generations of men in his family caught up in violence, including his father, who was a hitman in Tijuana. The film premiered at the 2021 Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) as part of the TIFF Docs section, alongside The Rescue, directed by E. Chai Vasarhelyi and Jimmy Chin, who took home the People’s Choice Award Documentary Award, or Jonas Poher Rasmussen’s Flee, to name but a few.
With Comala, Gian Cassini operates like a private investigator trying to solve the mysteries of his father’s life and death. Cassini grew up with a single mother in Monterrey having only intermittent contact with his father, who had started another family. After El Jimmy’s murder, Cassini goes looking for clues by tracking down scattered half-siblings and other relatives in Mexico and the United States.
We were delighted to interview Gian Cassini about the making of Comala, its fabrication process, and its themes.
“My personal reward is the catharsis I had been expecting my whole life, of finally learning who I am and where I belong.”
Film Fest Report: Tell us about how much of a necessity it was for you to conduct this investigation among your family, this quest for the truth, and maybe this quest for identity?
Gian Cassini: More than a necessity, it felt more like a duty. Going back to 2012 when I decided to make this film, we as Mexican citizens were starting to feel used to the abrupt violence that occurred in our country because of the Mexican Drug War. And when I met again with my father’s family after years of not having seen them, I recognized some of the root problems of this war that our government wasn’t talking about. So I wanted to put those problems over the table so that the average citizen could identify them as well and discuss them. And I thought that the most powerful way for doing that was to portrait them through an intimate universe in which everyone can relate to them: families. And by taking this approach the duty transformed into another one where I wanted to give each member of my family the space and time to speak. That was the reason that kept motivating me through the years to arrive at this final stage where the film is released. I firmly believe that each one of them is going to connect directly with audiences. And my personal reward at the end is that I’m able to get the catharsis I was expecting my whole life by learning who I am and where I belong.
To what extent did capturing this investigation on film nurture the investigation itself? In other words, how did you deal with carrying out both the investigation process and the film project in parallel?
That’s an interesting question because there was a moment when it was so frustrating and hard. For the first years of shooting, I financed the film with my own money, which wasn’t enough, so that made the journey extended more than I was expecting and it also felt like I had to keep the emotions that my investigation was bringing at the level of the stage of the production. So it frustrated me because I couldn’t see an end and I wanted to move on. But at the last stage of the shooting, the contrary happened: I took my time watching the whole journey from the outside and decided what else I needed to make the message stronger, and then I went to shoot it and add it to the film.
Throughout the entire film, one can observe an impressive emotional engagement from yourself. Was the process exhausting? Or healing?
Both. But that was a guide for me to indicate that I was going in the right way. When something affected me even though I had already over chewed the information it was a good sign for me that that was the way that it needed to be shown. So we may think I was being a masochist. But it was also difficult in the sense where I wanted to be objective and direct with the audiences. I didn’t want it to make these poetical reflections and I didn’t want people to feel sorry for me, so finding the way to structure that was one of the most difficult aspects of the film. And I find it interesting in answering this question because now that the film is being released after all these years of work I’m realizing that there’s much still a lot to do and many more conversations with my family that need to happen so there I can find this healing you mentioned. Perhaps Comala only opened the door for me to do that and it’s beautiful because it put me in the same position as the audiences who are going to watch it and for who I did this film.
The quest for identity and truth that you carry out in the film appears very bold, honest, and powerful. How easy was it to convince your family members to speak in front of your camera, and share with you their perspective?
It was complicated with some of them because they were worried for me because of the danger that I may put myself through investigating my father’s criminal aspects. But for solving that I just needed to explain them the kind of film I really wanted to do: an intimate film about family wounds. Filming them wasn’t difficult because they all have strong personalities and they are so open. Also by being a member of the family who they related with a camera because of the visits I did in the past solved my access to them which is one of the most difficult parts for a documentary filmmaker. So perhaps the real boundaries that I could find through the process were the ones I could establish in which I wanted to be respectful in my approach to each of them and avoid inner comments about their wounds.
Comala proves very powerful given that this very intimate story echoes larger social issues still prevalent in the Mexican society (machismo, violence, drugs…). What do you expect audiences to take away from the film?
I want people to take this film to their own houses and ask themselves about the dynamics they might have normalized and that have created pain in their lives. I also want them to feel related to the violence we are still facing in our lives and stop normalizing it and oppose it from the interior of their homes.
While pursuing this quest for answers, you have grown up as a human being. As a filmmaker, to what extent have you grown up as a documentary filmmaker while making this film? What have you learnt while making Comala?
Well, when I started this film I was coming from a fiction background. I knew nothing about documentary filmmaking or about the documentary industry. Through these years thanks to the labs in which Comala participated I had the chance to meet amazing non-fiction filmmakers and writers who have taught me the importance of, even by doing something so intimate about oneself, opening your eyes to what is happening around and the relevance of giving to underrepresented people the chance to be heard and seen and the beauty of it. So currently I want to stay here in non-fiction and consider myself a documentary filmmaker.
What did it represent to unveil the film at TIFF? And what kind of reactions or feedback have you received?
TIFF was, and still is, overwhelming. The first thing that I could say is that it felt like a validation for the amount of work I did through all these years. And now with the release, it’s deeply moving to hear the reactions of the audiences who are responding according to the film’s goal. A couple of women came to me after the screening and said: “We both are single moms and thanks to your mom we have learned that it will be OK to respond to our own children the questions they are going to have in their future about our family”. That got me into tears! Also the whole experience is beautiful because this is something totally new to me. I’ve never had a platform like this so I’m enjoying each part of this. Even when I read the mixed and bad reviews, it’s like “How exciting, my first bad review. I feel so privileged”.
What’s next for you? Did working on Comala generate ideas for your next projects?
I’m currently standing next to a family who lost one of their daughters last year after she was run over by a privileged man who runaway. Even if I did not get a chance to know her while she was alive I felt so connected to her and I wanted people to see how admirable she was. So I did a mini web series called Para Cristina Serna which everyone can find on YouTube. I feel so proud of this project. It’s the first time I stand next to someone or to a cause that had nothing to do with me. We are still waiting for the date of the trial for the responsible for Cristina’s death.
