Interview with Juan Carlos Dávila - Cecilia Sosa

“In Puerto Rico the colonial project has alienated us from nature: It has instilled in us a fear of the sea”

3 March 2025

Photo by Camila Rodríguez

Filmmaker, activist, journalist, community thinker. For almost two decades, Juan Carlos Dávila's documentaries have accompanied and illuminated the urgency of social, environmental and political struggles in Puerto Rico. In his work, ecological and political disasters coexist alongside the hope and creativity associated with community work and autogestion [self-management]. His oeuvre gives visibility to diverse forms of resistance, ranging from the search for sustainable energy and the struggles of artisanal fishermen to the re-occupation of schools for alternative community projects, including cooperative gardens and acupuncture clinics. The sea is a major protagonist in his films. While in Compañeros de lucha (2012) he followed the “Beaches for the People” coalition to vindicate the public right to access the sea, his recent short film Agricultores del mar (2024) shows the reduction of fishing in Vieques and the silent crisis that persists following the withdrawal of the U.S. Navy in 2003. Meanwhile, Simulacros de Liberación (2021) shows a heightened sense of irony and radicalised his oppositional stance, denouncing the asphyxiating effect that the Fiscal Oversight and Management Board has exerted on the life of the archipelago since 2016. In this interview for the “(De)colonial Ecologies in 21st-century insular Hispanic Caribbean film” project conducted on January 22, 2024, Dávila points out the responsibility of documentary film to make up for the limitations of mainstream media and explored the coincidence of the ecological and colonial struggles in the country, as well as the need to affirm black culture to recover the coasts as a source of sustenance and connection with the rest of the Caribbean. Dávila also dares to imagine a decolonial future for Puerto Rico…

How did living in Vieques, “la Isla Nena” [“the little girl island”], affect your work as a filmmaker and environmental activist?

Living in Vieques made me feel more Caribbean than living anywhere else in Puerto Rico, because of its connection to the other islands and to the Caribbean Sea itself. The Viequenses’ way of life is based on that connection with the sea. Puerto Rico is surrounded by water, we live on an island, but days go by without seeing the sea. They have privatised the coasts and taken away our right to the sea. In San Juan it is difficult to take a walk by the sea. You run into all the housing developments, the condominiums; you are a prisoner. The buildings are like a wall where the sea is on the other side. This disaster of urban design takes away one's Caribbean identity. Taking away our access to the sea is part of the colonial project. They are taking away our livelihood. Here in Puerto Rico we import fish and most of our food. Puerto Ricans are afraid. We live surrounded by the sea, but we are afraid of drowning in the waves. From an early age we have been deprived of our connection to the sea. Our country has no borders, the sea is the way we connect with other countries, with our brothers and sisters in the Caribbean. All those urban planning disasters have distanced us from the sea, from a livelihood, and also from the connection with other countries. In the case of Vieques, not having that urban infrastructure that keeps one imprisoned on land, that flow, that accessibility and that right to the sea, makes one feel much more Caribbean.

The sea appears as a protagonist in several of your films, why does it occupy such a central place?

The question of the sea has always been present in my documentaries, even in Simulacros de liberación we have many shots of the eastern beaches. For me it is an unfinished battle, which has a very personal character. By focusing on stories of the coast I also seek to present another Puerto Rico. It's not what we understand as Puerto Rican culture, not as we see it on Bad Bunny's new album. The album is great but it focuses on a “campesino” [peasant]-based Puerto Rican culture, which is the official culture, the one that has been imposed on us as part of the “Commonwealth”. But Puerto Rico is a country where most of the municipalities are coastal. However, the way we understand Puerto Rican culture is very much rooted in the countryside. In my films I want to highlight and understand the coastal culture, a culture where the main voices are those of black people, those who were on the coasts, the slaves, the African diaspora that settled primarily on the coasts. It's not something I usually talk about a lot, but there is an official Puerto Rican culture based on the “campesino”. And it is to some extent, but there are many other cultures, there are many ways to be Puerto Rican. One of them is to be a coastal Puerto Rican. That part is made invisible. One of the reasons is because if we were to highlight our coastal culture, we would have to highlight our black culture as well. That's why it's so important to me to make documentaries where the sea and the coast play a major role, which is not part of the official history.

Could you give us an example of how coastal culture is made invisible?

One example is food. When we talk about Puerto Rican food, we think of mofongo, pasteles, rice with pigeon peas: dishes that are associated with “campesinos” and the mountains. But where is the fish that is eaten here on the coast, the Yellowtail snapper or the Red snapper? Why aren't they part of our cultural identity? I grew up eating Yellowtail with arepa and beans. In many coastal towns, especially in eastern Puerto Rico, in Vieques and Culebra, people eat that kind of food. But if you ask most Puerto Ricans they won't necessarily see it as part of our native cuisine. So, paying more attention to the sea is also a way to break with colonial narratives.

Still from Agricultores del mar (Farmers of the Sea, 2024)

In Agricultores del mar you follow the struggle of artisanal fishermen in Vieques. There are also scenes depicting giant turtles swimming alongside war debris abandoned by the U.S. Navy.

It is important to show the legacy of the U.S. military in Puerto Rico. For many years the occupation was very violent - not only in Vieques and Culebra but also in Aguadilla, at the Ramey base, many regions where the United States intervened. In Vieques and Culebra these manoeuvres left a legacy of contamination. Colonialism in the most basic sense of the definition. The United States took over the lands of Vieques and evicted the residents to carry out military exercises. This not only impacted local development but the development of Puerto Rico as a whole. When we look at our history, we also have to look at the history of U.S. militarism. We should investigate and review all of that.

Do you think cinema can contribute to a decolonial project?

As a mass medium, cinema has the capacity to reach many people. It is not the same for people to sit down and read a book as to watch a film. No other medium has the capacity to make a subject so accessible. Many people say to me, “Why don't you make a reel or a TikTok to explain all this?” But there is a big difference between cinema and social media. On social media, people are distracted. When someone makes the commitment to sit in a cinema to watch your film, you basically have the audience sequestered for two hours, with the lights off, with no other distractions. Cinema is a communal activity, an art to be appreciated together. I would like for this to never be lost. A film is shown in a screening room and it generates discussions. The person sitting next to me saw the same thing, but we had different interpretations. That's what's interesting, it opens spaces for discussion. No other media allows that. Now there is a lot of streaming, people watch movies on laptops. In Puerto Rico, and in many other parts of the world, it is very accessible to buy 50-inch televisions, like having a home theatre. But if we normalize watching films like this, the communitarian character of cinema is endangered. I watch sitcoms or news alone but when I sit down to watch a movie I always try to do it with others. The more people the better. Cinema is an art to be appreciated as part of a group or community. That's the trick to offering a decolonial narrative that works.

Compañeros de lucha makes visible different forms of activism associated with the “Beaches for the People” coalition as an ecology of dissident practices. To what extent could such dissimilar practices be considered “decolonial”?  

In Puerto Rico the colonial project is very much tied to alienating us from nature. Despite being a very fertile country for agriculture, we import most of our food. A fear of the sea has been created. I see it in my grandmothers who, despite being from the coast, are afraid of the sea. Puerto Rico's development is an urban disaster, very based around highways. When I go to other countries, I realize that there are not as many highways as in Puerto Rico. There are a lot of shopping malls in Puerto Rico. This has been the idea of progress that has been introduced to us: progress is having a car, and driving it on the highway to the mall. That is the Puerto Rican dream, something totally detached from nature that facilitates the colonial project because it does not affirm a sense of belonging to our lands. That's why they displace us and build up the coasts. I make films to understand what part of Puerto Rico's colonial project is tied to disassociating us from nature. In the case of Vieques, they tried to use the land for military experiments and weapons testing, not to make shopping malls and highways but to exploit the land in another way. It did not work completely, the people resisted. This new stage of financial flow and purchase of properties from the Viequenses in this Caribbean paradise generates displacement and gentrification. Now it is more difficult because the enemy is much more hidden.

How has the situation in Puerto Rico changed since you started developing as a filmmaker/activist? Is there anything that is urgent to document at this current time?

In Puerto Rico there is a before and after the Fiscal Oversight and Management Board [created by the law voted by the U.S. Congress in 2016]. It is monstrous what the Board has taken away from us. We have a government that appears to have some authority but in the long run does not have it. In the last elections there was a movement to elect a centre-left government that won historic levels of support. Even if it had won, its capacity for change would be very limited. The Fiscal Oversight and Management Board is the one that has the authority in Puerto Rico. The struggles have to be very different. We fall into a trap when we focus on local politicians. A governor of Puerto Rico is a featherweight. We kicked one out [Ricky Rosselló in 2019] and we can take them all out. But taking out one governor is not going to stop the colonial project that is being carried out here. It’s more important to do other kinds of work. We see ourselves as an independent country and we blame the government in office, but we are a colony. Until we look for a solution to that, until we decolonise ourselves, it doesn't matter what government or administration we have. In my documentaries I try to bring that conversation to the foreground. That's why there are no local politicians in my films.

In your work there are imaginaries in tension: an imaginary associated with ecological and political disasters, and another one that shows a certain hope associated with the creativity displayed by community and self-management movements.

Of course. My work looks at grassroots work in the communities, that's where the real resistance is, the resistance that can be sustained independently of the government. I did not make Simulacros de liberación to say that we have to vote differently. It is necessary to vote differently, but it is not the only thing. There has to be an active political participation by the population, in their communities, in their workplaces, rather than relegating everything to the act of voting. In Puerto Rico elections are part of a colonial project, they are a trap. Albizu Campos [1891-1965, Puerto Rican politician and independence leader] said it more than 50 years ago. My documentaries seek to explore how to combat that power, that pressure. And it is community organising, direct action that causes governments the most headaches. We have to organise and work at the grassroots. Vieques is one example, “Beaches for the People” is another. That's why I'm so interested in them. With my documentaries I would like to show that you don't have to wait four years to go and vote. You can start to solve the problem right now, get together to talk about the problem in your community and start seeing what needs to be done to change our destiny.

Do you think independent documentary filmmaking has a different responsibility than mainstream media in the archipelago?

Yes, of course. In the very specific case of Puerto Rico, documentaries are becoming a series of alternative media where people can see other narratives, learn other stories, be exposed to other types of information that they are not going to find in traditional media. As liberal as some journalists may be, they are always going to fall short. A big part of the problem is who controls the media. Even though there are very good journalists in Puerto Rico, there are no solid independent media outlets right now. Projects like Claridad [a Puerto Rican newspaper founded in 1959 that served as the official publication of the independence movement and the Puerto Rican Socialist Party] that have been very important don’t have the reach or significance they once did. Documentaries are occupying that alternative space. It's unfortunate that we can't make more and produce more. I make a feature film every four years. I make many small things, medium-length films and short films in between. But more needs to be produced for documentary to become a force. There is support and many people are going to see documentaries like mine, like those of many colleagues. That gap is being filled.

What is needed for the independent documentary film movement to grow in Puerto Rico?

Many people would talk to you about the lack of funds. But I don't wait for funding to shoot. Sometimes the funds come, but most of the time they don't. I see documentary work as a calling. I see important things that are happening, that are going to be significant for the history of the country. What I film now can be analysed with different eyes later. If I wait for funding, that moment is lost. I also know that making documentaries is a job, I have to have this budget, that's fine. But that's not all. We need people who want to make documentaries and see it as a contribution. This is not a job, it is activism. When I am filming, I sometimes wear my activist hat because I understand that my contribution to that struggle is to document it. I have the privilege of knowing how to operate a camera and having studied filmmaking, so I put my knowledge at the service of decolonisation. That is why there is Juan Carlos Dávila, the documentary activist, but there is also Juan Carlos Dávila, the worker. It is also a job and I make a living from it.

Are there young people who want to join this documentary movement?

There are, and we are going to train them. We need more young people interested in documentaries that take on an activist perspective. Right now, new technologies have benefited the documentary, which is the hero of cinema. When the film camera became smaller, when 16 mm film came out, when more portable cameras and direct sound came out, the documentary benefited from these developments. Documentary has always been at the forefront of the cinema in terms of new technologies. Now, something like a Go-Pro, which is not yet accepted in Hollywood productions, I use a lot, and I also use Mavic technologies.... I think we have to decolonise how we make cinema in order to make more cinema. You don't necessarily need to have the biggest crew. I don't like to have a lot of people on set, just 3 or 4 people. Making a film is much more accessible than you think. A documentary can look better and help you achieve a certain intimacy with the story that you won't achieve if you have a very big crew.

Simulacros de Liberación seems to show you in a more exposed and openly combative position than previous films. Do you feel that your work has become more radical in recent years?

I think there has been a process of radicalisation in my work. At the beginning I was shier to take certain stances. Coming from a school of communication I understood that I had to adopt a position of neutrality. Until I realised that neutrality does not exist and that those who control the mainstream media are the ones who present themselves as neutral. They are the ones who have a pro-power agenda. So, the only way to achieve balance is to create a counter-narrative. It's a way to balance and allow people to watch Fox News critically and realise all the nonsense that is being said. And not only Fox, which is the most extreme case, but also the Latino media, Telemundo or Univisión, show a whole agenda of manipulation. The films I make have a goal of education and liberation.

Still from Agricultores del mar (Farmers of the Sea, 2024)

Your documentaries pay a lot of attention to artisanal knowledges and ancestral traditions such as the practice of fishing or the cultivation of coffee in the country. In a context in which the population is ageing and so many schools are closing in Puerto Rico, is there an intergenerational dialogue that you are interested in activating?

In my films I always try to think of a young audience. I want them to know the history of the country, the road that has been travelled. Young people think they are inventing things from scratch. But the struggle is a road with many mistakes, and also many victories. We can learn from the victories but also from the mistakes, so as to avoid making so many of them. There are knowledges linked to activism that those of us who want to fight for liberation have to draw from. In Puerto Rico there is a tendency to erase history. We know that there were people who fought against colonialism before, but these new generations don't know where to look. I want my documentaries to show them where to look, which were the struggles, and who were the people who were there. At the moment I'm making a documentary about Carlos “Taso” Zenón [Vieques fisherman and activist who led the fight against the U.S. Navy] aimed primarily at the youth. I understand that young people have to know him, there is knowledge that can be extracted from his experiences. There is also a question of artisanal knowledge, an organic knowledge, like the knowledge of fishermen, which for me is as important as academic knowledge. In Agricultores del mar we made the decision not to interview scientists or academics or specialists with PhDs in marine biology. We wanted to privilege the science of the people, the knowledge of the fisherman who lives it day to day. This is also part of the decolonial process that I try to carry out in my documentaries. Not all voices bring official knowledge. I am working with knowledge organically tied to artisanal processes, taking away the platform of those traditionally considered experts. With my work I also want to decolonise what it means to be an expert. Experts are not only those who wrote a thesis, but those who live in that land, in that community and who have seen it change day by day. One knowledge is not worth more than the other; they complement each other. Experts mostly appear in the mainstream media. I try to highlight ancestral knowledge, community knowledge, organic knowledge instead.

In Simulacros de liberación a student says that the flag of Puerto Rico will be black until its true colours are released (or revealed). What is your vision of a decolonial future for Puerto Rico?

Woah, there is so far to go in Puerto Rico! No decolonial process will be possible without three things that are very important to me. One: we have to solve the problem of public transportation. We have a serious problem; we depend a lot on cars and that also makes us individualistic. Everyone is in their own vehicle and has an individual experience of life. This is also part of the colonial project that must be changed. Two: we need to solve the issue of coastal destruction and all the constructions on the coast. Expropriate a lot of rich people and start converting those buildings into research centres. As long as they last, because the sea levels keep rising. Three: I see a Puerto Rico that is much more connected to its resources and its food. I think that food is an essential factor in decolonisation. We have a poor diet. We have a lot of these American fast-food restaurants, also a lot of chains like Costco and Walmart. A decolonial project is tied to regaining our connection to the land and to the sea. With that we have entertainment, we have healthy, fresh food. Through the sea we can connect with other countries. We must work on our connection with our environment. Yes, we have to start there.