The Guardian of Kings (now streaming on Netflix) may be a revelation to people outside of Mexico. Director Emiliano Ruprah’s documentary works as a tribute and exhibition: the first, to Homero Gómez González, a Mexican conservationist dedicated to preserving the monarch butterfly sanctuary in El Rosario, Michoacán, no matter what. The latter, from the spate of murders committed against Mexican environmentalists by the cartels – and the corrupt government officials who allow this to happen. Yes, Gómez, beloved both inside and outside his community, was one of the victims. Why, you may wonder, do organized criminals attack environmentalists? The answer to this lies in the film, which highlights a tragic situation with a profound global ripple effect.
THE GUARDIAN OF KINGS: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?
The essence: “Brides of the sun.” This is how Homer poetically nicknamed his beloved monarch butterflies. You know the monarch: instantly recognizable by the distinctive orange and black patterns on her wings, she’s perhaps proof that Mother Nature is an inspired artist. They migrate annually from Canada, 4,400 kilometers to El Rosario, where they group and gather en masse to rest, eat and mate. Their presence in Mexico made them part of folklore, where they symbolize dreams, transformation and resilience; Their annual trips north and back resonated powerfully with Mexican migrant workers on similar excursions; Some believe that monarchs carry the souls of the dead with them.
We see photos and videos of Homer standing among a massive crowd of beautiful butterflies. They were his passion. Videos of him on social media helped bring hundreds of thousands of tourists to El Rosario to see the monarchs in the reserve where he worked as a commissioner. He grew up in the area and was something of a local hero. His son, wife, siblings and friends describe him as a loving and caring father with a tendency to be a joker. But he took the maintenance of the habitat very seriously and would stop at nothing to protect the sanctity of it, even under the threat of violence.
Violence? Against a man who loves butterflies? He has to be driven by greed, right? Absolutely: Michoacán is a hotbed of cartel activity. The forest provides them cover to cook meth, smuggle drugs and weapons, and, frankly, wage war on each other, and they maintain safe houses in remote areas so they can kidnap and hide people with minimal scrutiny. But the area is rich in natural resources and organized criminals realized how much money could be made from illegal logging. Not only do they venture into protected areas at night and literally steal trees, but they also burn the remaining vegetation to clear it for avocado plantations. I was surprised to learn that cartels export the fruit to the United States and participate in the multi-billion dollar avocado industry. (How and why this happens remains a topic for another documentary, perhaps.) Logging and avocados, we learn from the presenters here, are even more profitable than marijuana.
Let’s go back to Homer, who ventured into the woods at night to catch illegal loggers in the act. It was entirely grassroots work, as local authorities tend to look the other way, either because of their links to organized crime networks or a desire not to cause problems. Homero became an increasingly vocal advocate against such illegal activity, using the press to expose what was happening in El Rosario and provoke federal and international action. He even got involved in local politics and decided to run for mayor. His high-profile activity made him a target; He was even kidnapped and threatened by members of the cartel to stop his activism. Next time, they wouldn’t be so nice: On January 13, 2020, Homer went to the local racetrack to rub shoulders with other local politicians and never returned home. His family was worried. The police hesitated. The community came in their hundreds to look for him in the forest. Sixteen days later, his body was found at the bottom of a well.
What movies will it remind you of?: Ruprah could turn The Guardian of Kings in a compelling limited series about murders of environmental activists, as Werner Herzog did with inside the abyss.
Performance worth seeing: Homer’s adult son, Homer Jr., is the most credible voice in the film and, in many ways, is arguably the foundation of the narrative.
Memorable dialogue: Homer’s wife, Rebeca Valencia: “’I have a serious problem that I don’t think I can solve.’ “Those were his words.”
Sex and skin: None.
Our opinion: Structurally and stylistically, The Guardian of Kings is a pretty standard documentary: it tells a linear story through lots of talking heads and some archival footage, and perhaps relies on reenactments more than most (although they also give the film some necessary gravitas and visual variety). But Ruprah’s vigorous journalism has a clear point: Romero was done wrong, and Ruprah doesn’t just trot out sympathizers to lament the guy’s terrible fate. She finds a police officer who coldly (and cynically, if you look hard enough) repeats the “official” lines about Romero’s death, that he “drowned” and that there is no evidence of a crime. . He brings up Silvano Aureoles, and it is shocking that he agreed to participate, considering that he is a former governor of Michoacán who is currently under investigation for his ties to organized crime and is described as someone who impersonated Romero.” ™s friend while he worked behind the scenes to undermine him. Ruprah also finds a coroner and journalists who offer detailed evidence and crucial context to the story, to balance the emotional testimony of Romero’s family and friends.
Thus, the film presents itself as a magazine article written by a creator with a talent for the occasional poetic turn (Ruprah’s images of monarch butterflies are beautiful and reverent, a call for conservation as powerful as any fact or statistic about their decreasing number and disappearing habitat). From the central story emerge a plethora of implications about international trade, rampant corruption in government (and not just in Mexico, the subtext slyly urges), climate change, and grassroots activism. Each of those topics probably deserves its own documentary, and as always, answering one question brings up several more. But the prevailing idea is that guardian picks up where Romero left off, using the media to elevate the voices of the oppressed righteous.
Our call: You will admire the rigor of this documentary as much as its message. TRANSMIT IT.
John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic living in Grand Rapids, Michigan.
