José María Cabral's 'Sh*t Happens' Is 'About Class, Dependence and Power'

José María Cabral, three-time Oscar hopeful for the Dominican Republic and the first Dominican filmmaker selected at Sundance, in 2017, with 'Woodpecker', presents his first dark comedy, 'Sh*t Happens', nominated for the Tallinn competition. The film, a bizarre story of social divides and power games in a Dominican family where real events unfold, has been selected […]

The social satire produced by Studio Lantica is the acclaimed Dominican filmmaker's first dark comedy.

José María Cabral, a three-time Academy Award nominee for the Dominican Republic, and the first Dominican filmmaker to be selected at Sundance in 2017 with "The Woodpeckers," presents his dark comedy debut with the Tallinn Competition nomination, "Sh*t Happens."

Almodóvari's story of social divide and power play in a Dominican family, where it literally takes place, the film was picked up by Madrid-based Latido Film Sales ahead of its world premiere in competition at the Tallinn Black Nights Film Festival. Popular in diversity stories, Quentin Tarantino's Poppinji Cavalier starring Sacha Baron Cohen opens in the West End in March Rent, Reborn: How Star Gaten Matarazzo, director Luke Sheppard and an all-star West End ensemble Are Giving The Musical The Musical Greatest Revival It.

The film was produced by Rafael Elías Muños and Sárah Pérez Baez for the leading Dominican player Lantica Studios.

Latido's managing director of film sales, Antonio Saura, has been an admirer of Cabral's work since his media helm of Hotel Coppelia (2021) and a long-term collaboration with Studio Lantica: "The film is fantastic, the original premise is provocative, and the performances are great, but it's not only an analysis of deep thought, it's entertaining after you've seen it." In fact, it happens to a family of three in the film (formerly known as "Gut Feeling"). Father Raul (played by Spanish star Fele Martínez of Almodovar's "Bad Education," Netflix's "Alpha Males"), his wife Veronica (Lisbeth Santos), and his daughter Isabella (Leonoro Forrero). To cure his sick daughter, biotechnologist Raul finds the cure in Lydia (Cindy Galan), his nanny. “When Lydia and maid Dominga (Isabelle Spencer) realize the value of what they've unwittingly provided, they decide to challenge the upper-down dynamic in the house.

Cabral spoke to Variety about the photo's social commentary, well-balanced absurdist humor, Almodovar's influence, and more!

First of all, can you comment on the Spanish title "Comemierda"?

"Comemierda" has a double meaning. Literally, "Come Mierda" translates to "dirt eater", but in the Dominican Republic and much of Latin America, it is commonly used to describe someone who is a snob, or looks down on others, often associated with wealth and privilege. This phrase has different meanings among cultures and rarely refers to its literal translation. By combining these two words into one word, we play with both meanings and create a new interpretation that the audience will fully understand when watching the film!

What made you want to dive into black comedy the first time around, although the social critique often depicted in your work remains at the heart of this film?

I don't think I consciously decided, "Now I want to make a black comedy." I think the story demanded it. I've always been interested in social issues, class and the conflicts of the societies we live in, but I didn't want to make a film that felt heavy and loaded. By using comedy, it allowed me to go to uncomfortable places in a different way. You laugh first and maybe a second later you ask yourself why you are laughing. It's meant to make you uncomfortable and hopefully provocative.

The microbiotic miracle cure that Raul invents (we won't reveal the secret ingredient) is a pretty wild and crazy idea. Where did it come from?

It started with something much less brutal: thinking about the relationship many Dominican and Latin American families have with the people who work in their homes. A nanny can raise your children, know the most intimate details of your family, be emotionally essential, and yet still have this stark social hierarchy separating her from others. Then I began to ask: What could happen to completely reverse that relationship? What if the family suddenly needs something from the nanny that money simply cannot buy?

This question eventually led me to the very strange encounter at the center of the film. I had been reading about various health trends and alternative medicine treatments, and when I came across this particular treatment, everything clicked. The possibilities became increasingly absurd and eventually very funny. But more importantly, it's a great metaphor for the power dynamics we wanted to explore and challenge.

For me, it's about class, affiliation and power. At its core, the film explores the power dynamics and conflicts that arise from social inequality when people from different social classes live under the same roof.

We tend to think that the person who pays the salary has the power. But domestic relations are much more complicated than this. What happens when the person you hire turns out to be the person you desperately need? I've been thinking about this for years because these relationships have become so normal in this part of the world that sometimes we don't see how strange some of them really are.

And while this particular story takes place in the Dominican Republic, it is truly universal. Cultural circumstances and details may vary, but these unequal power dynamics between families and their domestic workers exist everywhere, to varying degrees.

I didn't want to speak for domestic workers or make films with villains and easy victims. I wanted to take a critical look at the world I know and use comedy and absurdity to make the audience uncomfortable enough to look at it differently.

How did you work with screenwriters Miguel Jarol and Nathalie Peralta to find the right tone? What other movie or series did you have in mind?

We were aware of the potential dangers of such an assumption, but we really wanted to push some tonal boundaries. All three of us agreed that modern writing and filmmaking should take risks, so we went into it with all of that in mind.

The biggest rule was that the characters could never know they were in a sitcom.

This assumption is becoming increasingly ridiculous, but everyone should take it quite seriously. This contrast is where much of the humor comes from. Miguel, Natalia and I spent a lot of time calibrating it.

There's also something of the awkward social observations of Ruben Ostlund, Bong Joon-ho or Yorgos Lanthimos, and the freedom of the filmmakers to allow situations to be absurd without explaining the joke.

Ultimately, though, we wanted the film to be deeply rooted in the Caribbean, and specifically the Dominican experience, while still exploring themes that are universal and resonate with audiences everywhere.

Can you say a few words about the impeccable ensemble of adult actors?

The casting was necessary because the film only works if everyone fully commits to this ridiculous situation. Fele Martinez has the incredible ability to be funny without acting comedic. Raul does increasingly questionable things, but Felle keeps him human and driven by something very simple: he wants to help his daughter.

Lizbeth Santos brought exactly the complexity I wanted to Veronica. It would have been easy to turn that character into a caricature of a controlling rich mother, but under all that control, Lisbeth gives her vulnerability and humanity.

Cindy Galan and Isabelle Spencer were equally important because the film hinges on the relationships between the women within the household and how those relationships change as the hierarchy changes.

The "à la Almodóvar" visual style is striking, with vivid colors, blended framing and rich interiors that enhance the characterization and superb storytelling. Can you comment on how it came about?

I'm glad you mentioned Almodóvar, because we definitely wanted the composition to play an active role in the comedy, especially the way Almodóvar uses camera placement and the movements of his characters.

The house is almost another character. In the beginning, everything seems controlled, clean and meticulous, which reflects how this family wants to see itself. But as the relationships within the house begin to change, this carefully constructed order seems increasingly strange.

It was also very important to us to shoot in wider and group compositions as much as possible. Instead of cutting to a close-up for each line, we wanted the characters to move within the frame and let the audience decide where to look and who to follow. This film is about a family, about a group of people constantly reacting to each other, so it was natural to let those dynamics play out in the same shot. We tried to be economical in our coverage and carefully plan the movement of the actors and the camera and rely on fewer cuts.

What were the biggest challenges during filming?

Definitely keep a straight face sometimes. There were days when he walked off the stage and you realized, "We're spending too much time and too much work discussing this." hahaha

But really, the exact challenge was not to treat it as a joke. The moment the actors wink at the audience, the film collapses. Fele could deliver an absolutely insane line and we'd discuss motivation and emotional truth as earnestly as if we were making a Bergman film! That became part of the fun of making it: the more absurd the content, the more seriously we took it.