Sphaera: Edition #8

Sphaera

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By Carlos Aguilar

“Ahora todos quieren ser Latinos.” Now, everybody wants to be Latino.

So sung global superstar Bad Bunny in his 2022 track “El Apagón.” His contributions to turning the reggaeton genre into a global phenomenon can’t be understated. And in that statement he verbalizes how, after being segregated and dismissed as niche, Latin music and culture have become desirable – and, more importantly for the powers that be, highly profitable.

The Puerto Rican artist’s Super Bowl Halftime Show attests to the bona fide mainstream status his tunes and image have attained. That he still performs exclusively in Spanish rather than adapting to the demands of the English-speaking market demonstrates that the language barrier, at least as it relates to his music, has all but vanished.

Could that same widespread interest ever expand beyond music and include Latino films?

Maybe. But when it comes to Latino cinema, there’s a key distinction that must be made from the outset. The imperfect umbrella term encompasses films made in Latin America and those that stem from or that explore the stories of the Latino diasporas—particularly in the U.S.

Over the last few decades, Latin American cinema has blossomed thanks to government funds that, despite the region’s alarming shift to the political right, most countries still provide. These financial resources allow a certain number of filmmakers per year to bring their visions to fruition without their box-office prospects being the chief concern. As a result, in general terms, countries like Mexico, Argentina, Chile, and Brazil have developed dynamic national cinemas that take risks by way of “auteur” films.

Major festivals, including Sundance, often program these Latin American features, but only a handful of projects centering U.S. Latinos have graced its screens over the last decade. Blast Beat, Mutt, In the Summers, and Ponyboi stand out among them. A few other narratives about American Latinos such as Quinceañera and We the Animals also premiered in Park City but were not created by Latino filmmakers.

Without access to the state money their counterparts in Latin America can at least attempt to get, U.S. Latino storytellers remain on the outskirts. On the documentary front, they have found more fertile ground through the support of PBS and other institutions, but making fiction films is still an elusive, more costly endeavor that lacks sufficient backing.

And yet, the landscape and the division between Latinos on this side of the border and those in Latin America have increasingly blurred to the benefit of both camps.

Aside from Oscars-winners like Guillermo del Toro, Alfonso Cuarón, and Alejandro Gonzalez Iñárritu, other Latin American filmmakers have left their homelands to direct in the U.S., sometimes making films that don’t feature any connection to Latinidad. There’s Chile’s Sebastián Silva, Pablo Larraín, and Sebastián Lelio; Argentina’s Andy Muschietti, Puerto Rico’s Angel Manuel Soto, or Mexico’s Michel Franco and Alejandra Marquez Abella.

Meanwhile, some U.S. Latino filmmakers have embarked on the opposite journey. Instead of only pursuing opportunities here, they have looked to Latin America as a source for creative partnerships and career advancement.

In 2025, Sundance premiered Serious People, a film starring Cliqua, a Mexican American directing duo composed of Pasqual Gutierrez and Raul Sanchez. Gutierrez also wrote it and co-directed with Ben Mullinkosson. And while the meta film satirizing the entertainment industry takes place in Los Angeles, the Cliqua pair first forged their reputation directing music videos for Latin American reggaeton acts, including Bad Bunny and J Balvin.

The case of the Medellín-set film Barrio Triste about young outcasts is similar. This debut feature by Colombian-American artist and filmmaker Stillz was produced by Harmony Korine's U.S.-based company EDGLRD but made entirely in Colombia, where Stillz’s parents are from. Like Cliqua, Stillz also cut his teeth directing multiple Bad Bunny music videos.

On the distribution front, two new ventures have emerged to bring Latin American films to U.S. screens in a more streamlined manner. Miércoles Entertainment Studios, a company founded by former execs from defunct distribution label Pantelion, has a deal to release Spanish-language and bilingual titles in the U.S. on Hulu and Disney+. And, while it’s not exclusively for Latino films, Pablo and Juan de Dios Larraín (Jackie, Spencer, Maria) recently launched Pijama, a platform where filmmakers can upload their projects, set pricing, and select the territories where they want them to be available directly to the public. Given the siblings’ strong ties to Latin American cinema, it’s likely that artists in the region will be among those who can benefit most from access to a global audience without a middleman.

These exchanges between Latin America and U.S. Latinos seem to be the key for mutual success in the long run: leaning on shared sensibilities while capitalizing on what each side can offer the other. The future of Latino cinema will hopefully be less geographically defined and more culturally fluid. Much like the future for U.S. Latinos as a whole, time will tell.