This site uses cookies. By using this site you are agreeing to our privacy and cookie policy. Sixty-eight-year-old prostitute Carmen prays in front of a shrine decorated with pink chintz and fairy lights. Firstly, the ever-present threat of violence that stalks the prostitutes of La Merced in Mexico City.
And secondly, the tight-knit, quasi familial bonds between the women which serve as their main protection from the gruelling realities of the toughest lives imaginable.
Goded lets the prostitutes have voices and hopes for the future, things which are routinely denied them by a culture which punishes women for victimhood. Director Maya Goded tempers the bleak moments β and there are plenty of these as the women recount the horrors that led them to the streets β with hope, humour and love. A healthy festival life, following on from its premiere in the Sundance World Cinema Documentary Competition, seems assured.
With its intimacy and extraordinary access, this is the kind of film which could only be made with a level of trust that a filmmaker has to earn over time. And Goded has certainly put in the time. She has been exploring La Merced and photographing the working women there on and off for twenty-three years. Both look at female sexuality and strength on the very margins of society.
For her film, Goded follows five key characters aged between fifty and eighty. Lety dismissively juggles a octogenarian sugar daddy with her main priority β supporting her daughter through her cancer treatments.
