The camera looks out the window, where it looks like summer outside expect for a bunch of trees turning yellow. Lina Rodriguez’ other 2022 film is Mis dos voces, or My Two Voices. It accompanies visuals like that with narration of three women speaking in Spanish. One of them talks about having to hide where she lived to her ex. She does this while they’re both in a Canadian detention centre. She talks about how she survived that brief time by doing things like exercising with the other female detainees. The other two women discuss their own stories also while speaking Spanish.
There’s a separation between what viewers see and hear in My Two Voices, which marks it as a documentary that isn’t for everyone. It’s also understandable that some of its moderate fans might even be on the fence about it because of its sensory choices. It may be easier to put a face and a name with a voice. But there are merits to the documentary’s way of doing things. It shows a little quaint jewellery collection, or hands fixing someone’s short hair. These participants are equally about their accomplished present as they are about their troubled pasts.
Some critics might not understand the title’s meaning until one of the voice over interviewees explain it blatantly, although as a immigrant who can speak two languages terrible, it’s pretty obvious. That there are two voices that some people have – one in their own language and another in the language in a place that feels 50% like their new home. The former feels like something they have to preserve through themselves and their children lest they lose it. The narration does most of that work. But in a way, the visuals do the same by depicting these people living every day.