Director Lorenzo Vigas (left) with actor Hatzín Navarrete at the set of The Box
By Mafe Simonsen
The Box / La caja is the most recent film from acclaimed director Lorenzo Vigas, who won the Golden Lion Award for Best Film at the 2015 Venice Film Festival for his debut feature From Afar / Desde allá. The film has been selected as Venezuela’s official entry for the 2023 Academy Awards in the Best International Feature competition.
Filmed in 35mm in the Northern Mexican state of Chihuahua, known for its spectacular landscape, large maquiladora factories, and violence, The Box follows a young boy searching for his father—after the authorities claim to have found his remains in a communal grave.
The Box is Vigas' third film in his trilogy investigating fatherhood in Latin America. The film premiered in the official competition at last year’s Venice Film Festival and is currently playin in New York and will be released on Friday, November 11 for streaming by MUBI. To learn more about the filmmaking process behind this powerful story, TropicalFRONT spoke with the film’s director about its production.
There are very few moments when we don't see the character Hatzín in the frame. Could you talk about this choice of visual omnipresence for the character in terms of aesthetics? What did you want to bring emotionally to the narrative with this decision?
That omnipresent presence of Hatzín has been important since writing the script. The Box is narrated through his character, and a challenge was to present him in a way that would not "tire out" the viewer with his constant presence. During the editing, decisions were made to show him with his back turned to the camera in certain scenes for that reason. Hatzín Navarrete's magnificent work in his interpretation gave us the possibility of having moments of great emotional charge that we then had to add nuance while editing so that his emotional journey would grow.
The Box
Filming in Chihuahua—the arid northern state known for the large influence of organized cartels—must have required a lot of logistics and organization. Can you talk about the processes of filming in this region?
The great challenge from the perspective of production was to film in the largest state in Mexico and take full advantage of its incredible locations. From Juarez in the north of the state, through the Creel mountains, Villa Ahumada, Nuevo Casas Grandes, or San Francisco de Borja, production had to continually make company moves in a region controlled by local cartels. An advance crew would visit the locations first to get the go-ahead from the authorities and be able to film smoothly.
Can you talk about filming inside the factories and the difficulties of this process?
We had been waiting a year to access film inside a factory. They are very protective and secretive about their production processes and how their employees are treated. I have to say that not all of the factories treat their employees the way it appears in the film. Some treat their employees very well. However, it is true that others do not, and those are what interested me more in telling this story.
After a year of waiting, we found out that a factory had just gone bankrupt, and we took the opportunity to pay their employees for three days of work. That's how we were able to have an agreement that allowed us to film.
The Box
One of the characteristics that unfortunately unites Latin American people is how these Countries operate within the logic of forgetfulness of erasure. Can you talk about the choice of bringing Hatzín and Mario Enderle's relationship - which is already complex—into the context of the massive disappearance of people in Mexico?
Yes, of course, the issue is a deep wound within Mexican society. So many people live without having been able to bury their loved ones, without having been able to close that chapter. They live in a continuous state of waiting for a rumor or news about their relative's whereabouts. It is a prolonged anguish that generally does not end because very few cases in which the remains of your loved one are recovered.
As The Box is a film about identity, the theme of the missing people organically meshes with a young man searching for his identity and, at the same time, with the thousands of people who lose their identity when they enter a factory and are turned into a number.
The relationship between the characters Hatzín and Mario Enderle is very ambiguous throughout the film. Can you talk about your decision to represent their relationship like that?
For me, ambiguity is very important in art because, in reality, life is like that. Sometimes, entertainment through certainties can be bad or distort reality. That's why I like films that have contradictory characters, where you give the viewer a chance to build his own story when you give space to ambiguity. That allows the viewer to be actively involved in the story.
For some, Mario will be a villain, others see him as a survivor who does what is necessary to have money so his daughter will have food and a home, and that makes you connect in a more irrational, unconscious way with what you are seeing, and it generates deeper emotions, which is what I look for when I make films. That's my approach to filmmaking and that's why The Box is like that.
