‘God Is A Woman’ Review – The Kuna People Reclaim Their Story [TIFF 2023]

Documentary filmmakers, in theory, should care about telling an authentic objective story.  

God Is A Woman, directed by Andres Peyrot, is the documentary the Kuna people deserve albeit 50 years later. To understand the gravity of this achievement, one must go back in time to 1962 when Pierre Dominique Gaisseau famously won the first Oscar for a documentary film, Sky Above and Mud Beneath. Gaisseau, acutely aware of his influence and reach, is eager to repeat his success with his chosen subject – the Kuna people. In 1975, he travels to the Guna Yala islands and spends a year filming with the community. Despite Gaisseau’s experience and accolades, the Kuna people do not have a positive experience filming with the director. Promises are broken, the indigenous community is exploited and the film is never released.

God is a Woman seeks to rectify this. Peyrot puts the Kuna people front and centre in stark contrast with Gaisseau’s documentary. While adopting the same title as Gaisseau, Peyrot sets God is a Woman apart by focusing on the villagers and allowing them to tell their stories in their own words. The camera regularly films at a distance, allowing the community to move freely and converse without interference. Villagers cook fried plantain and reminisce about their loved ones’ inclusion in the lost film. Community meetings to discuss the importance of recovering the film continue unimpeded. The general consensus is that outsiders cannot be trusted and it is frank discussion like this that lends the documentary its authenticity.  

Footage from Gaisseau’s film is cleverly edited into God is a Woman – the comparison is striking.  In a voiceover, Gaisseau dominates the black-and-white footage which feels detached from its subject and cold in tone. This new feature, in contrast, is visually vibrant with plenty of shots of colourful murals, decorative traditional dress, and the land on which the Kuna people live. When necessary, the camera gets close to the Kuna villagers and their memories of the original film feel sacred and intimate. We follow Arysteides Turpana as he investigates what happened to the original film and his search takes him all the way to Paris where he discovers Gaisseau had a hidden copy.  

With a thematically metatextual structure, God is a Woman forces the audience to interrogate what constitutes a documentary as the Kuna people discuss the liberties Gaisseau took while filming their community 50 years ago. Two Kuna men sit in a field discussing the staging that takes place under Gaisseau’s direction.  

They laugh as the director is clearly ‘’loco’’. One startling example is Gaisseau losing his temper, shouting at the village women to ‘’get out the shot’’ because they are carrying plastic bottles of water. Those plastic bottles of water are needed to perform the puberty ceremony but they do not fit the romantic representation of an indigenous community Gaisseau wants. As a result, they are unceremoniously cut. It is here that the film forces the audience to reconcile with an age-old idea – the camera never lies. Evidently, the camera can only show what is put in front of it and Gaisseau intends to depict the Kuna people devoid of any advancement or ‘Westernisation’.  

Gregoire Auger’s haunting score lends a mythical quality to the experience. Footage of the recovered documentary is projected over the faces of the villagers as they stand in front of coloured murals. The score coupled with these images evokes feelings of sadness and loss, and we are reminded that while this new film is a triumph there is an injustice here that should never have happened.  

The future is bright, though. We meet Panamanian filmmaker Organ Wagua, a young man who is determined to honour his heritage and make films. His inclusion offers hope that indigenous people will continue to have a voice and must take control of their representation. Wagua is not timid and confidently discusses the issues that arise for young filmmakers in Panama today. Social class and access are hindering accurate representation of their indigenous community. Any advancement for the community is geared toward increasing tourism rather than putting the native people first. Wagua sits with other locals and they theorize that the original film was made for Western audiences with no interest in seeing an accurate truthful representation of the Kuna. This is clearly a problem and key questions are raised that ring loud and true: ‘’How do others see us?’’ ‘’How do we see ourselves?’’ ‘’How would we like to be seen by others?’’. It is important to ask what a documentary filmmaker intends while watching their work and the treatment of their subject. 

Recovering the film and preparing to screen it for the entire community, nearly 100,000 people, is truly a community effort. White satin is purchased from a haberdashery, big enough to act as a projection screen. Men gather to ensure the newly built structure can withstand any harsh winds. Children ride around the village with large signs advertising the event.  

Everything has been leading up to this for the last 50 years. Despite the director’s flawed vision and execution, this film still holds a lot of reverence for the Kuna people. Their determination has been rewarded and lost loved ones have been immortalised forever. Fortunately, some villagers in the original film are still alive and the effect of watching themselves on screen cannot be undervalued. There is value in true representation and God is a Woman strengthens an already unwavering argument of what can be achieved when indigenous people are free to tell their own stories.

God Is A Woman held its North American Premiere as part of the TIFF Docs section at the 2023 Toronto International Film Festival. 

Director: Andrés Peyrot

Rated: NR

Runtime: 86m