Romelia: A Personal Journey at Cannes

Is the fate of biology truly intertwined with identity? Spanish filmmaker Carla Simon explores this idea in her deeply personal film, *Romelia* (which translates to “pilgrimage”). This project revolves around her quest to uncover the story of her biological father, who passed away from AIDS after separating from her mother.

*Romelia* brings Simon face-to-face with the complex and often painful dynamics involving her parents. Although she first tackled this autobiographical narrative during her stunning debut in 1993, I can’t help but wonder if a more traditional fictional approach could have made the storytelling even more impactful.

Nonetheless, Simon’s usual warmth and richness shine through in her films. Here, she adds a layer of stylized hallucination and nostalgic flashbacks, creating an intriguing visual experience.

There’s something almost magical about how Simon captures family dynamics through her lens. Her camera flows seamlessly within group settings, much like another teen at a gathering, quietly absorbing the atmosphere. However, I felt that the film ultimately reconciled two conflicting desires: condemning the harsh treatment her father received from his relatives while also seeking closure and a sense of belonging within her family.

With an engaging presence, Lucia Garcia portrays Marina, who appears on a digital video camera in Vigo, eager to connect with her father’s relatives. Early scenes are enriched with diary excerpts from her late mother, reflecting on their life with Alfonso, Marina’s father.

While her aunt and uncle embrace Marina warmly, their initial response seems tinged with mixed emotions, almost as if Fon’s wife had returned to confront unresolved issues.

Almost instantly, Marina is struck by contradictions between the stories she heard about her father’s life with her mother and the narrative presented by his family. She has come in search of official documents to support her film studies, hoping to confirm her father’s identity, but finds that she’s not recognized by this family, which is disheartening—her name is absent from Fon’s death certificate.

Now, she faces the challenge of convincing her reluctant grandparents to officially acknowledge her, as they seem hesitant about her presence. Notably, her grandmother even remarks that Marina doesn’t resemble her mother, while her grandfather is reluctant to part with significant funds meant for her film research.

The harsh reality is that they carry shame and resentment over Fon’s struggles with AIDS due to drug use. This complicated family history looms large, and while Marina initially maintains a polite demeanor, glimpses of her mother’s spirit begin to emerge.

This film delves into a timeless question many of us grapple with: What were our parents before we existed? What did it mean for them to evolve into the individuals we know? This theme lies at the heart of this thoughtful and empathetic drama.