Gael García Bernal Explores Power, Freedom and Survival in Hombre al Agua at TIFF 2026

At TIFF, I caught the Canadian premiere of Hombre al Agua, written and directed by Gael García Bernal — the same magnetic force behind Amores Perros, Y Tu Mamá También, and The Motorcycle Diaries. When I heard it was screening, I jumped at the chance to interview him, and I ended up sitting down with not just Gael but the film’s leads: Esmeralda Pimentel and Jorge Salinas, a veteran of Mexican cinema. 

Produced by La Corriente del Golfo, the production company he co-founded with his old friend Diego Luna, the film is a fable with teeth: a Cuban lifeguard saves a Mexican businessman from drowning and is “rescued” in return — a new life in Mexico, a marriage to his rescuer’s daughter, a child. Slowly, Camilo realizes his salvation was a calculated scheme of manipulation and control. Written with Argentine playwright Mariano Pensotti and shot in the Yucatán, it’s Gael’s third feature as director, following Déficit and Chicuarotes.

The house is practically a character. I asked Gael whether the location came before the script. Not exactly — the script already demanded a vertical hierarchy. Silvina, the “refugee princess” Camilo looks after, is always above everyone else, in her tower. The film was shot across three haciendas — Tamchén, Tishnuk, and Kusumaru — stitched together so seamlessly they read as one estate. The stone and wood, the hidden underground space, the sense of being watched from above: architecturally, the house *is* the power dynamic. Cinematographer Fabrizio La Palombara shoots in 4:3, bringing us close to the characters without ever feeling intrusive.

One scene stopped me cold: Juana, panicking because the actor has quit, and Camilo walking in to say, “I can play myself.” It’s one of the best breakup scenes I’ve ever seen in cinema. Esmeralda saw it as a turning point — not an ending but an awakening. “She’s in an exploration for the very first time about herself,” she told me. “It’s also an act of freedom. He gives her that beautiful gift: go and explore the world. What a beautiful act of love.”

Juana’s pole vaulting felt deliberately specific, so I asked why. Gael wanted her to be an athlete — a specialist. He remembered watching Sergey Bubka as a kid, and the modern record-holder Armand Duplantis. But the symbolism goes deeper, as Esmeralda noted: “You depend on yourself. You’re not playing in a team.” Juana, she said, doesn’t know how to make a team with other people — she only relies on herself. Esmeralda, who had never pole-vaulted before, committed with her heart: “I give it all.”

Jorge Salinas was clear-eyed about Abel. “I don’t think he was naive,” he said. “He’s a successful businessman. Now he wants to grow up in the economy and in moving people. The next step is to be a politician. He has to sell dreams, a better life.” Abel knows exactly what he’s doing when he “rescues” Camilo; he’s using a desperate man as a prop. Asked for a superpower, Jorge answered instantly: “Forgiveness. Self-forgiveness.”

Gael’s passion for the project is unmistakable. Hombre al Agua is, in part, about Cuba — a country he calls close to his heart, and one where people are “looking for survival in a very difficult moment, externally and internally.” He originally wanted a Cuban actor in the role, but financiers wouldn’t bite unless he starred. We’re glad they pushed. “Camilo is the archetype of a person in Cuba right now,” he told FERNTV. “Whatever gets you through the night, it’s okay.” He calls Camilo a kind of heteronym — a character carrying things that have happened to him, things he imagines, things he fears.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Idalina Leandro (@idalinaleandroofficial)

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Idalina Leandro (@idalinaleandroofficial)

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Idalina Leandro (@idalinaleandroofficial)

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Idalina Leandro (@idalinaleandroofficial)