Bolivian cinema survives on passion, not resources. Despite state neglect, filmmakers push forward, driven by faith and resilience.
When I was a child, I grew up with the slogan that Bolivian cinema was a matter of faith. It was printed on hundreds of stickers and posters that served as campaign material for the debut film of my father, Marcos, which fittingly carries the title Cuestión de Fe (A Matter of Faith).
Interestingly, it’s a slogan that remains just as relevant today, 30 years after my father’s first film came to light.
It’s very difficult to talk about Bolivian cinema without sounding like a complaint, but the reality that has always characterized our "industry" is one of precariousness, scarce or non-existent resources, and constant state neglect and indifference. We observe with envy the flourishing film industries of neighboring countries, supported by state policies. Meanwhile, our own talents wither.
That’s why the slogan is accurate. Making films in Bolivia is truly a matter of faith. It’s like diving into the sea of uncertainty and swimming against the current. And while it sounds bleak, it’s undeniable that there is something beautiful in that faith. A spark in the middle of a void, Bolivian cinema is on the verge of a breakthrough, thanks to the faith of those involved—like a seed in the desert, blooming with just a drop of water.
Love is central to making films in Bolivia, for it’s not a business, nor a guarantee of prestige or respect. Cinema is made in Bolivia because people generously put the best of themselves, part of their soul into every movie.
I remember the slogan, just as I remember the joy of the audiences, the joy of hearing stories from your country and seeing yourself reflected and feeling identified. My older brother always recalls how we would go to the theater again and again to watch the movie and observe the audience’s impressions. We knew exactly how and when they would react. I remember the lines of people outside, filling one screening after another. At that moment, seeing those faces, I understood the happiness a film can generate, and years later I understood its social importance. Many years later, I also grasped the magnitude of my father’s and his team’s achievements.▮