Eva Libertad explores social and individual tensions about motherhood for a deaf woman
Is a perception of the world that a social majority defines as “disabled” in fact gifted? Not less able but more capable in ways hidden to many people – or even ignored by them? Eva Libertad’s feature-length adaption of her 2023 eponymous short film asks this unconventional question. Working closely together with her hearing-impaired sister and lead actress Miriam Garlo, the Spanish director-writer creates an intimate portrait of family relations. This tender drama fosters the understanding of deafness and challenges common assumptions about “ability” and “disability”, not only in regard to deafness. The thoughtful and empathetic story delves into the tensions that arise between ceramist Ángela (Garlo) and her hearing partner Héctor (Alvaro Cervantes) after the birth of their child.
Conflicts start to overshadow the sunlit scenery in rural Spain already before the arrival of their baby daughter Ona. As Ángela (Garlo) and Héctor gather with friends and family to celebrate, Ángela’s concerned parents become the voice of subtle – and sometimes not-so-subtle – prejudice and preachiness. It’s apparent they would wish for a “healthy” child. And healthy to them means hearing. But since everything points to Ángela’s condition being congenital, the chances are fifty-fifty. In her parents’ comments, there is an unspoken implication that she was to blame if her child was born hearing-impaired. While Héctor shows a serious effort to support his partner and adapt to her world, the intense birth scene makes their individual challenges dramatically apparent.
In an already vulnerable situation, the protagonist is overwhelmed by the verbal advice of numerous midwives. She can only lip-read one at a time. The nurses standing on her side and at her back utterly forget she’s unable to hear them. Her partner does his best to translate, but as he moves away for a moment, Ángela feels lost. The remarkable scene doesn’t shift the blame to either the medical staff or the partner. Neither does it diminish the mother as helpless or overly emotional. By vividly conveying Ángela’s perspective, Libertad empathically shows how communication fails in a society designed by and for hearing people. This factor gains importance as the young parents wonder if little Ona will be hearing.
Everyone diligently assures them that it wouldn’t matter. But of course, it does. Ona’s parents are keenly aware of the restraints, resentment, and possibly even ridicule a hearing-impaired child might experience. The doctor says the medical tests are inconclusive. As Ángela and Héctor wait, the uncertainty increases their anxieties. Some of these are shared and universal, but the most interesting and revealing are specific to their unique situation. Ángela doesn’t want her daughter to suffer discrimination. There are no scenes of easily identifiable aggression. Instead, carefully observed social interactions show how Ángela can’t fully take part in the acoustic aspects, like recognising a pop song.
Sound and camerawork align in creative ways to translate the experience of limited hearing. Dialogue mutes as people turn their faces. Sounds are distorted to uncomfortable screeching by hearing aids that aren’t much of an aid. Even Ángela’s seemingly ideal environment hides prejudice and patronising. This is the world of the hearing, says Héctor once during an argument. His attitude is presumptuous, but his observation is accurate. If the child can hear, it will fit in in a way its mother can’t. Ángela herself is painfully aware of this. But she also wants Ona to share her world and to communicate with her in her own language: sign language.
Garlo shows these complex and contradictory feelings with naturalistic authenticity. The emotions feel truly rooted in her personal experience, which prompted her sister to their touching collaboration. It explores the complex relationship to sensory impairment in all its nuances. While the focus is on the family conflict, the casually flowing story also illuminates societal reactions to perceived disabilities. The director’s familial closeness to her leading actress shines through every scene. This is an unpretentious story about small emotional shifts, growing understanding, and new ways of listening. Its microcosm provides a refreshingly natural, captivating insight into a reality of life that is far too rarely portrayed on screen.
- OT: Sorda
- Director: Eva Libertad, García López
- Year: 2024
