by Charles Kirkland, Jr.
Hernán Jiménez Delivers a Tender Portrait of Motherhood
A tender and fearless portrait of motherhood, Abril shines as a festival standout that turns heartbreak into a compelling journey of rediscovery.
Abril has spent nearly fifteen years pouring every ounce of herself into raising her daughter. She has given up sleep, dreams, and sometimes her sanity, and she has done it with the quiet resolve of a mother who believes that love is enough. Her world tilts when that daughter announces she wants to move in with her father, a man who once walked out on their marriage to chase a comedy career. The news leaves Abril suddenly and painfully alone, pushed into a whirlwind mission to either prove she is still her daughter’s true home or rediscover the self she lost along the way.
Written and directed by Hernán Jiménez, Abril stars Maricarmen Merino Mora, François Arnaud, Lara Yuja Mora, and Jiménez himself in a film that delivers an intensely personal portrait of motherhood. Jiménez returns to the Santa Barbara International Film Festival after the acclaim of his 2016 feature About Us, and once again he brings a story steeped in intimacy and emotional clarity. Abril examines the joy and heartbreak that come with raising a child and the unspoken sacrifices that define so much of motherhood.
The film opens in a therapy session where Abril, her daughter Valentina, and her ex-husband Julián struggle to communicate in healthy and constructive ways. The sessions begin as exercises in good intentions but quickly become avenues for weaponized microaggressions that give Valentina space to unload her teenage frustrations onto her mother. It is here that she finally declares her desire to move in with her now-successful comedian father.
For a woman who has spent years anchoring her child’s life almost single-handedly, the idea of being left behind is devastating. Abril throws herself into attempts at self-improvement that she hopes will change Valentina’s mind, yet the film astutely reveals that these external fixes are temporary. The true transformation must happen within.
Her path toward rediscovery begins with a tender, casual romance with a local bartender, Gabriel. His warmth and attentiveness allow Abril to see herself with long-forgotten clarity, offering a window into the woman she once was before marriage and motherhood consumed her.
Abril’s identity is further complicated by her work as a social worker, a profession that mirrors the caregiving and self-sacrifice that define her home life. The two worlds blend into one continuous cycle of emotional labor and denial, and the film follows her struggle to break free and reclaim a sense of wholeness.
Jiménez crafts a thoughtful and emotionally rich film that is as visually striking as it is quietly profound. He taps into the psyche of motherhood with refreshing honesty, rejecting easy studio-style solutions in favor of an ending that feels true to the messy, unresolved complexity of real life. Abril is not a story that ties itself into a bow. It lets its audience sit with the discomfort, the uncertainty, and ultimately the hope that comes from choosing oneself.
Abril is a warm, heartfelt indie gem that deserves a long and successful run on the festival circuit.
Grade: B-
