The Colombian musical, directed by Juan Carlos Mazo and starring Majida Issa, closed the Charlotte Latino Film Festival on a day filled with art, conversation, and emotion.
By Sorayda Díaz
Film, like music, is an act of remembrance. And when the two intertwine in a story that transcends borders, the result can strike a deep chord.
That’s what happened in Charlotte with the screening of *El Bolero de Rubén*, the first Colombian musical film written and directed by Juan Carlos Mazo, which came to the city to create a space for collective reflection.
Filled with art, emotion, and Latin flair—that’s how the closing ceremony of the Charlotte Latino Film Festival went, where *El Bolero de Rubén* was screened. The film came to the city thanks to the efforts of Cine Casual, a platform dedicated to building bridges between independent Latin American cinema and audiences in the southeastern United States.
More than just a movie screening, it was a shared experience that began with an intimate discussion. Hours before the screening, Mazo and Issa sat down with a diverse audience to talk not only about the creative process behind the film, but also about their careers, their vision of art, and the role of Latin American cinema in representing our identities.

The director recounted how this story began on the stage in 2012 and, with patience and conviction, gradually took shape until it became a film. For him, it wasn't just about telling a story of love or grief, but about exploring deep emotions through a language unique to Latin America: music.
“I wanted to tell a story through our emotions, with our music, through the way we survive violence and love with intensity,” Mazo shared with a captivated audience, setting the poetic tone for what was to come on screen.
Majida Issa, for her part, recalled how she happened upon *El Bolero de Rubén* by chance, as a member of the audience, in a theater in Bogotá. The play moved her so deeply that she stayed until the end to meet the author. That first encounter with Mazo was the beginning of a friendship and an artistic collaboration that would culminate years later in the film. She became involved as an actress, but above all as a producer, driving the project forward with a determination born of her love for the story.
The discussion also gave both artists an opportunity to reflect on the current state of cinema in Latin America. They spoke about the challenges of production, the gaps in distribution networks, and their desire to build a stronger industry, where stories like theirs don’t take a decade to see the light of day.
As the conversation progressed, a topic came up that wasn’t in the script but resonated with everyone: migration. Although *El Bolero de Rubén* doesn’t directly address that issue, its arrival in a city like Charlotte—home to thousands of people with stories of displacement—made it unavoidable.


That was when Majida shared her experience as an actress playing characters very different from herself, and how that has led her to develop a deep empathy for things that aren't always immediately understood.
“Even if we don’t experience them in the same way, every migrant’s story deserves to be heard. As an actress, I’ve had to play characters with whom I share not a single value, but when you come to understand the other person’s background, their pain, their journey… something changes within you.”
The audience listened in silence. The air was thick with emotion. At that moment, art ceased to be merely aesthetic and became a bridge.
Later, Mazo picked up the thread with a reflection that touched on the universality of migration. For years, he has been developing a concept that has even led him to study animal migration as a metaphor for human displacement.
“We migrate like animals: for food, for shelter, for love. It’s part of who we are. You can’t ask a Latino to stop talking about migration, because it’s in our blood.”
The film screening was a success in Charlotte: two completely sold-out showings and a deeply moved audience. In a city shaped by the interplay of cultures, the film found a home. And it’s no coincidence: stories, like people, also migrate. And when they find a receptive audience, they flourish.
By the end of the evening, it was clear that cinema does more than just entertain. It also heals. It connects us. And, as Issa said at another point in the conversation, “it reminds us who we are.”
