Our time is precious. Often, we find ourselves striving to make the most of every second of every day, jam-packed with work, errands, and leisure. Rarely do we take a moment of respite to be immersed in the physical and emotional space around us. This feeling is reflected in the cinematic landscape, with audiences and critics alike rushing to theatres to see intense features like Oppenheimer (2023), Anora (2024), and One Battle After Another (2025). Diego Luna’s latest directorial effort, Ceniza en la Boca (2026), profoundly provides a warm, inviting atmosphere in which audiences can fully embrace vulnerability and presence in a world hell-bent on intensity. The film made its world premiere at the Cannes Film Festival this year under the Special Screenings sidebar.
The story follows 21-year-old Lucila (Anna Díaz), who moves to Madrid alongside her younger brother Diego (Sergio Bautista) to reunite with their estranged mother Isabel (Adriana Paz). Since her departure eight years ago, the siblings have been forced to restructure their lives without her. Flickering between Mexico and Spain, Lucila has to reconcile with her identity and moral obligations while protecting her brother.
Writers Abia Castillo, Diego Rabasa, and Luna had the precarious challenge of adapting the screenplay from the novel by award-winning author Brenda Navarro. Although the novel is roughly 190 pages, Navarro delves into complex themes, including immigration, motherhood, and trauma, all of which revolve around feminism. The writing team does the seemingly impossible by weaving these powerful concepts into a cohesive narrative, leaving only a few threads loosely tied together that need refinement.
Without Díaz’s enchanting portrayal of Lucila, the film would not be the same. She gives every ounce of herself to the role in an electrifying breakout performance, internalizing the mundanity of her job, an obligation to her brother, and a deep resentment towards her mother. Throughout the entire 102-minute runtime, Díaz is almost always on screen, which is a daunting task for an emerging young talent. Yet she handles it with ease, bringing an impressive level of vulnerability, strength, and humanity to her characterization of Lucila.
In contrast, Paz has had minor appearances as Isabel, joining an ever-growing line of actors like Rami Malek in Oppenheimer and Jesse Plemons in Civil War (2024) that have minimal screen time but maximum impact. Paz’s character is multifaceted. She beautifully touches upon her own hardships and sacrifices as a mother, making you empathize with Isabel even when Lucila really does not want you to. Physically present or not, Paz is ever-present in the story as a shadow looming over Lucila, and that is only made possible by Paz’s few powerful, evocative moments.
Ceniza en la Boca, like many films at Cannes this year, prides itself on its gradual, restrained pacing, which can be a real test of audiences’ patience. Luckily for this narrative, the restraint works. The unwavering character study of Lucila, a woman who bears a multitude of simmering pressures threatening to overflow, benefits from the methodical and meditative unraveling of her story. It allows us to understand Lucila at a depth far more intimate than if the narrative were brisker. Luna’s direction here is stellar, akin to that of slow-cinema royalty Ryûsuke Hamaguchi, Chantel Akerman, and Theo Angelopoulos.
It is a rarity that, when a male director helms a film centered around female-lead characters, the women do not feel exploited or sexualized. Over the past two decades of cinema, Hollywood still faces this problem with Blonde (2022) andThe Idol (TV Series 2023) being notable examples. While it is important to have women directors at the forefront of these stories, there should also be an onus on male directors to portray women respectfully and faithfully.
Luna proves that this respect is possible through his compassionate, sensitive direction of Ceniza en la Boca. From honoring the source material written by an acclaimed woman to intentionally hiring women as heads of department (composer Raquel García-Tomas, editor Sofia Escudé, and writer Castillo, to name a few), he was constantly surrounded and guided by women’s voices, which only helped his filmmaking excel.
His combined efforts with cinematographer Damián García make for stunning camerawork. There were countless static shots, reinforcing the stillness necessary to fully sit with Lucila’s inner conflict. Stylish mirror shots are also heavily used to represent her introspective moments. The photography is cinematic, having the feel of an established filmmaker and cinematographer at work.
Ceniza en la Boca is quietly devastating and commands your full attention. Díaz encapsulates what it means to be a young woman trying to keep herself afloat in a performance that blows you away. It is an authentic contemplation of the weight women carry every day. Luna spectacularly showcases that his directorial skill comes toe-to-toe with his acting prowess.
Review Courtesy of Nandita Joshi
Courtesy of Luxbox & Netflix via Variety