Director/writer Steven Morales Pineda delivers a story inspired by true events in Salt Water (Agua Salá). In a Columbian coastal town, abuse survivor Jacobo (Luis Mario Jiménez) lives in a house owned by his mother. Set during the COVID pandemic, Jacobo has left his job as a nurse and is scraping by teaching yoga classes. He’s renting a room to a man he’s also in a relationship with. At age 33, he is still ruminating about the priest who molested him, José Luis (Oscar Salazar).
When 50-year-old Father Luis comes back to town in the midst of another scandal involving a boy, he is facing the termination of his time in the church. Jacobo reaches out to him, and they meet. Luis explains the new charges as persecution. He denies everything and maintains his innocence, even back to the days of Jacobo and his peers. However, Jacobo and others know what actually happened. When the situation heated up in the past, Luis left town without a word to anyone.
What should have been a confrontation looks more like old lovers coming back together after a long separation. Instead of feeling rage or hatred, it becomes clear that the soft-spoken Jacobo is happy to see Luis, and even tosses out his “tenant-with-benefits” to provide a room for the priest. In all other ways, Jacobo seems adjusted and happy, but his feelings for the priest are the exact opposite of what the viewer expects.
“…At age 33 he is still ruminating about the priest who molested him…”
This is a challenging narrative, and if it were not based on a true story, it would be appropriate to wonder if the writer had ulterior motives around victim-blaming and making an argument that child molestation can be forgiven. That it is based on actual events illustrates the fact that human emotions are extremely complex and emotional logic can veer wildly away from intellectual logic. Clearly, Jacobo knows what happened to him and the other boys was wrong, but at the same time, he still feels deep love and attachment for Father Luis. This seems perverse, but Jacobo is not to blame.
Jiménez carries the film as Jacobo, and all the other performances match his in power and grace. We are left with sorrow for Jacobo, anger at Luis, and a curiosity for how the tangled trauma can be resolved in this terrible situation.
The village is a calm place, fallen on hard times with the pandemic, and everyone is feeling some desperation trying to find ways to get by. Relationships in Jacobo’s life are authentic, never exaggerated. His mother says he’s too sentimental. His friends are genuine, and his life seems balanced overall. Salt Water is a slow, quiet film. The ocean outside the village is peaceful, and the landscape is lush. At an easy pace, we get long, slow moments with Jacobo to get to know his life. This film is unsettling, but ultimately an achingly beautiful story about the complicated workings of human love, denial, and regret.
"…an achingly beautiful story about the complicated workings of human love..."
