Doc Days ’23: Fleeting Joys or; Hummingbirds Review

Image courtesy of Hummingbirds

The “coming of age” genre of film is almost like a cheat code to get my approval. No matter how twee or precocious these types of films can come across as in their worst moments, there is almost always a moment in these films that connects to me on an emotional level. In a sort of comforting sense, it’s nice to see other people in other situations dealing with everyday problems or situations I’ve run into in my youth. But for every moment of familiarity that may arise, the best “coming of age” films, whether true or imagined, find the common human experiences in places and people we wouldn’t expect to find them in. 

Hummingbirds, the inspiring feature documentary from the dynamic duo of Silvia Del Carmen Castanos and Estefania “Beba” Contreras, doesn’t feel as alien to me as it might to other viewers. Sure, I didn’t  grow up in Laredo, Texas like Castanos and Contreras but I’ve experienced (mainly through close relatives) the glee, tension, and promise (both true and false) of living as a Latino in Texas. I’ve never lived so close to the border of a country that I could, at the whim, casually hop from one side to another like our filmmakers do, but I have entered abandoned houses with close friends on those long summer days when there was nothing else to do. For every new angle of these people’s lives it shows, a striking similarity follows. Throughout its sub-90 minute runtime, Hummingbirds gracefully paints a picture of youth and their uncertain futures and all the fun and pain that comes with that. 

This is first and foremost Silvia and Estefania’s story (or at least a moment in their story). Filmed during the summer of 2019, we watch Silvia and Estefania pass the days as young people usually do: With wanderings, musings on their future and past, and lots and lots of stupid jokes and inside references with themselves and friends. Hummingbirds is a living piece. There’s no grand message or point except that of what comes out of seeing people’s lives play out on screen. We learn that each person has gone through an abortion, that one faces the threat of deportation daily while another’s parent faces the same situation, but these challenges move through the film as they do in life: In and out, wherever the winds of destiny blow them. Does that make these still pressing topics minimal? Not at all. The mere fact that these political talking points act as impactful moments on these young people’s lives—while not taking up the focus of the film—emphasizes the impact these things have on them. Still, like most people, Silvia and Estefania trudge on. Life is for the living—especially the young—after all.

Image courtesy of Hummingbirds

While the film is the brainchild of a pair of young kids, the craft of Hummingbirds is surprisingly and effectively composed. With a team of four editors, assistance from producer Jillian Schlesinger, and plain old commitment, Silvia and Estefania show a strong sense of control over an idea that, on paper, could result in something more meandering than attention-grabbing. There are moments when Hummingbirds can get a little lost in its own musings and the hunt for a shot that captures the beauty of everyday things, but overall, this is an impressively crafted film. Filmed mainly during dusk and night, the filmmakers and cinematographer Miguel Drake-McLaughlin capture Laredo in the way that our main protagonists see it as: A rugged yet cozy city that holds beauty in its unassuming streets and buildings.  As Jillian herself stated in the Q&A after the film, she “…knew whatever they [Silvia and Estefania] wanted to do was going to be amazing” and looking at the final results it’s hard to argue against that. Like the best memories we have of summer, Hummingbirds comes and goes, bringing with it an authentic sense of life that sticks with you after the film ends.

This screening was part of the Austin Film Society’s Doc Days series. For tickets, click here.