My daughter recently sent me a short video of her oldest child reading a book. The sing-songy rhyme was punctuated by his delighted laughter as he pointed to each line as if he knew the words. I was flooded with memories of when his mother did the same with the very same book.
This precious boy loves books, and I look forward to the day I can introduce him to my favorites. In the meantime, his favorites are my favorites.
I’d like to share two of my current favorites for those of you who have special little ones in your life. First is the board book,Saints Like Me by Lisa M. Hendey and illustrated by Katie Broussard. It’s the perfect introduction to little virtues for little saints-in-the-making, filled with child-sized examples of living a virtuous life. Perfect for your little saints ages 1 through 3. And if your precious ones are a little older and ready for deeper conversation, you’ll want I’m a Saint In the Making. I highly recommend both!
Slaves and Kings: The History of Saint Antonio María Claretdepicts the extraordinary life of the 18th century Spanish priest who was a missionary, founded a religious order – the Claretian Missionaries, was Archbishop of Santiago in Cuba, and became Confessor to Queen Isabel II. He was also a social reformer, and shook things up everywhere he went, resulting in over a dozen attempts on his life, including a serious knife attack that almost took his life. Through it all, Claret maintained his mission that the Gospel must be preached through all the means available.
Director and writer Pablo Moreno masterfully weaves the story of Claret through the eyes of a writer, Azorín, an intellectual and literary critic suffering writer’s block in the midst of the Spanish Civil War in the 1930s. Azorín gets drawn into Claret’s story because of a scandalous biography written to defame Claret. He observes that history belongs to those who write it, and endeavors, reticently but then with passion, to set the record straight even though he finds himself paranoid and fearing for his own life.
The film, based on real events, takes us through three time periods. Claret’s life in the 1800s, establishing him as a bright child with a particular devotion to Our Lady of Carmel, his work as a weaver and businessman, and his life as a priest. We then see Claret’s life through Azorín’s eyes, as he begins to unpack the difficulties and persecution Claret endures, especially in Cuba as Archbishop of Santiago, and then back in Spain as Queen Isabel II’s Confessor in a court and political situation he cannot support.
Our encounter with Claret in this film bridges the two hundred years between us, reminding us of our shared humanity in a world filled with strife, antagonism, and hatred. The film shows, sometimes graphically, man’s inhumanity to man. Moreno explains, “Claret preached renewal of the Church in a dark time. Claret is a saint for our time.”
Because of this suffering, Claret’s actions and works strive to imbue those around him with the dignity of their humanity, and he does so with the love of Christ. In all instances, especially in his assignments, he went to the people, to be next to them, with them. I am reminded of another saint, St. John XXIII, who said, “I have looked into your eyes with my eyes. I have placed my heart next to your heart.”
Slaves and Kings brings to life the story of a courageous priest who lives his faith, who understands that the Word is Light and can change people. That, in itself, is a recommendation to see this film, but wait … there’s more.
I fell in love with Moreno’s lovely storytelling and the beautiful cinematography. He delights the viewer with Easter eggs that sweeten the experience for those familiar with his other works. However, the extended metaphor of the woman in blue who perfectly accompanies Claret at every season of his life encompasses the Marion nature of his spirituality. It is both subtle and beautiful. Antonio Reyes gives a commanding performance as Claret, and Alba Recondo gives a heartrending air of loneliness to her role as Queen Isabel II.
Father Byron Macias, CMF, a Claretian Missionary helping to promote this story of Saint Antonio Maria Claret provides an interesting insight into watching this film as a sacramental, as a way to give expression to our faith. I certainly felt empowered to live a life of heroic virtue through Claret’s example.
Slaves and Kings: The History of Saint Antonio María Claret is distributed through Bosco Films, founded by Lucía González-Barandiarán to promote high quality wholesome cinema.
This film is unrated at this time and is not suitable for young children due to several scenes of unsettling physical violence. Parental discretion is advised for older children.
Available in theaters on August 22nd in English and August 23rd in Spanish.
The opening scene in the Netflix animated movie, Vivo, tugged at my heart and sent it soaring. I wasn’t prepared for the flute, the Tres (the guitar-like instrument that is such a key element of Cuban music) and the nostalgic skyline in La Habana with waves crashing on El Malecón and el Capitolio in the background.
Finally, after decades of watching animated films set all over the world, I find this sweet love story set in my own backyard across the miles of the Florida Straits and into that place where love, family, separation, and hope still live.
The story is precious, starring a quirky kinkajou (Lin-Manuel Miranda) and an even quirkier kid (Ynairaly Simo) on a mission to deliver a song from Andres (Juan De Marcos – you’ll know him from Buena Vista Social Club) to his beloved Marta (the iconic Gloria Estefan). It’s a sweet story filled with wonderful music and delightful antics.
I’m not one to care what critics have to say, but on one point I agree: it veers off into Crazy Land for a long stretch in the Everglades, but it picks up again in the neon-lit cityscape of Miami.
The film is fun and great entertainment for the whole family. I adored Gabi’s anthem, “My Own Drum,” which had me dancing in my seat (and singing along with Missy Elliott at the end). Still, it was the Cuban music, the Tres, especially, that thrilled me. And who doesn’t love to hear Gloria Estefan singing in English and then seamlessly switch to Spanish?
Its message of love and family, bound together with the healing and transformative power of music, saves the day, saves Gabi and Vivo, and brings a lost love back to life.
The film’s bittersweet message of loss touched me deeply.
I still haven’t written about the current events in Cuba. To be honest, every time I try, the words fail me. In a way, this charming story and its message has given me some measure of hope. The film focuses on the adventures of Gabi and Vivo, so it doesn’t feature the suffering of the Cuban people under the communist regime, but if you know what you’re seeing, the Tres, a passing reference to “dollars and pesos” and its 60 year separation for Martha and Andres, it gets those elements right. I wept for Marta and Andres and their lost love. I cheered for Gabi and Vivo, who found each other. And I shed more than a tear or two for my Cuba in Gloria Estefan’s theme, “Presente.”
I hope you’ll watch it with your family, and know what it means to be presente, too.
