One of the films that moves me the most is without a doubt Simón. I have watched this movie countless times, and it always rocks me to my core and makes me cry as much as I did the first time I watched it. This film is for all of those who have fought and continue fighting in and out of the beautiful country that we yearn for: Venezuela. Someday we all wish to return home, and we have faith that we will. This film is not only authentically Venezuelan; it transcends borders, connecting with people struggling with political turmoil as well as psychological unrest.
This film is best experienced without knowing the plot. Hence, this will not be a complete review but more of an extension of the film’s themes.
First, I want to recognize that I am privileged. It pains me to see what has been happening to a country that I love more than the country that I was raised in. Due to life circumstances, I wasn’t raised there with my family and culture. It may have been good fortune that my mom was able to see that the future wasn’t looking too bright and realize that she didn’t want for her daughter to grow up in a country so distinct from the one she carries in her heart. Regardless, I carry that country in my own heart and it breaks my soul to see what Venezuelans have suffered for decades.
My cries for the most beautiful country in the world are nothing compared to the bravery and resilience of the Venezuelan people. We are more than 8 million people praying from afar that our beautiful flag sees the light of liberty once more while those who weren’t as lucky fight against the monster within our home. I admire the spirit of my beautiful Venezuela and desire that we never lose it: we move forward, keep our heads high during adversity, always have faith, and fight until the end.
I don’t usually talk about Venezuela with non-Venezuelans because I feel that I have the inability to fully dissect the Venezuelan experience (including in the Diaspora) when the members of the conversation don’t share the same experiences. I simply resort to saying that the situation is sad; a country so beautiful was destroyed by something as powerfully meaningless as words.
There are people who are ‘brainwashed’; they are blind to everything the country is going through and continue to lament the loss of the people who are responsible for the country’s downfall – even if it was just a little push they gave, they are responsible, every drop of water counts in the grand scheme of things. Chávez was the beginning of the end – his predecessor is also seen as to hold the title, hence the grand immigration of Venezuelans escaping from what they were (accurately) fearing that was coming. And Maduro was even worse—there’s no other way to describe his illegitimate regime.
Yet, some people still have the audacity to say ‘everything is okay, we are thriving and surviving’. Please note, it’s inherent in every Venezuelan to ‘keep the fun going’ and laugh through pain, but it’s concerning when people are blind and deaf to the grand majority of the country dying due to starvation, lack of health care (it’s only accessible to some, you either need a lot of money, very good connections, or both), hate crimes, and the list goes on, all things which can be traced back to the poor decisions of the so-called ‘leaders’ of the country.
The ‘brainwashing’ of a people is why ‘better days’ for Venezuela are such a struggle to foresee – internal damage is always much harder (if even possible) to get better from. This is especially the case from something as powerful as the mind – it’s easy to manipulate it, but hard to reset it to its pure state, it takes the will of the people themselves to want to see and hear the truth again, something that not many are so willing to do (this ties into another Venezuelan trait: stubbornness).
However, with recent rises of Venezuelan awareness in the news, creative works, the Norwegian Nobel Committee with María Corina Machado winning the 2025 Nobel Peace Prize, as well as the long-awaited imprisonment of dictator Nicolás Maduro Moros, we have the strengthened audacity to say that our hope and stubbornness to never give up until our land is free again remains in full force.
This is something that Simón does so well. The film magnificently demonstrates the tie between politics and psychology, in a way that even goes beyond the Venezuelan context while still honoring the realities of the Venezuelan people.
I’d like to end this review of this spectacular film with a few quotes from some wonderful Venezuelan artists. Each quote, like this film, can be directly dedicated to Venezuela or can be connected to a broader audience.
- “Llevo tu luz y tu aroma en mi piel y el cuatro en el corazón. Llevo en mi sangre la espuma del mar y tu horizonte en mis ojos.” (“Venezuela”, Luis Silva)
- “Que viva Venezuela, mi patria querida. Quién la libertó, mi hermano, fue Simón Bolívar.” (“Viva Venezuela”, Un Solo Pueblo)
- “Gloria al bravo pueblo, que el yugo lanzó, la ley respetando, la virtud y el honor. Gritemos con brío, gritemos con brío; ¡muera la opresión! ¡muera la opresión!” (“Gloria al Bravo Pueblo”, Vicente Salias) (Venezuela’s National Anthem)
- “Ser venezolano es lo más arrecho del mundo entero. Trabajadores de sol a sol somos de primera, jodedores, amigos invisibles, estemos dentro o estemos afuera. Por ahí bailábamos ‘llorarás, llorarás, llorarás, sin nada que te consuele’. Espero que estemos aprendiendo de todo esto, porque ser engañado ya sabemos lo que duele. Para concluir, quiero ser franco y, como Alí, fiel a nuestra jerga…¡que viva Venezuela en esta mierda!” (Rawayana’s Grammy acceptance speech, Alberto Montenegro)
My greatest dream is to be able to enjoy the Venezuela of my family’s stories. This dream is still very much alive, and I hope to one day be able to achieve it. My dear Venezuela, I will always dedicate to you each song of love, of struggle, of hope. I will always love you, and I hope not to have to miss you for much longer.