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Stories Worth Telling: An Interview with Pablo Vaca About FORENSITA

At some point in our lives, we’ve all heard a story and thought, “This story is meant to be a film.” Most of the time, that idea remains just a thought, but what happens when someone dares to bring it to the screen? Pablo Vaca decided to take that step. Upon encountering a fascinating story, he found that a documentary was the perfect medium to tell it—and that is how Forensita was born.

After his appearance at the 24th Morelia International Film Festival, we spoke with the director about the story that inspired his debut film, his encounter with Inés, and the challenge of portraying her different facets without reducing her to just one.

FICM: I've been following your journey with Forensita a bit. I saw that it was part of the 9th Conecta Chile, that it won at DokLab Navarra in 2024, and that the jury at DokLab Navarra spoke very highly of Inés. I wanted to ask: how did you come to meet Inés? What was it like to arrive in Pinotepa Nacional and discover this story?

Pablo Vaca: I heard about Inés through one of her relatives. They told me her story, and I found it truly remarkable. Following that, I got in touch with her and her mother. I explained my idea—that I’m a documentary filmmaker and that I was very interested in meeting them, spending time with them, and seeing if there might be a possibility to make a documentary.

I spent two weeks with them the first time, and it was a wonderful experience: sitting down to talk, walking around the town, sharing meals, and becoming part of their daily lives. They were incredibly generous—they opened the doors of their home to me. And it wasn’t just them; Inés’s father, her sister, her uncle, and other family members and friends did, too. Honestly, it was a truly beautiful process.

FICM: Yes, it’s evident in the interactions Inés has with her family—with her uncle—that they are very warm people. I'm very curious about that contrast in Inés: being a teenager who goes to school, who gossips, who goes to the plaza and, at the same time, having the maturity or the stomach to face those images, right? What was it like for you to witness that, or to enter a morgue for the first time alongside Inés?

Pablo Vaca: It all comes back to the everyday life I shared with Inés and her family—spending time with them, going through the daily routine, and getting to know an Inés who is full of life and incredibly fun. There are few people who make me laugh as much as Inés does; she’s hilarious. In fact, the documentary doesn’t even fully capture just how fun she can be.

Entering the world of her profession presented a striking contrast. After spending time with such a vibrant young person, seeing her suddenly so professional and deeply focused—that’s what always caught my attention. And that’s what I wanted to highlight in this documentary: beyond what she sees and what she faces, I wanted to showcase her professionalism—the seriousness with which she carries out her work—and how she navigates this world, surrounded by adults.

That, too, was something that truly impressed me: a 14-year-old girl telling an adult how to perform a service. I found that absolutely wild.

FICM: I also see another contrast in the story—I’m not sure if you noticed it from the start, or perhaps while filming or editing—but I’m referring to the femininity Inés embraces for her *quinceañera*—that tradition centered on a specific, conventional idea of ​​femininity. That contrasts with her work as a forensic scientist. In the conversation with her mother, she tells her, "Well, I think I should have been a man." Was this contrast between her personality traits—or the gender roles she has adopted—something you discovered within the story, or was it something you already had in mind and wanted to showcase?

Pablo Vaca: The film is built on contrasts. Now that you mention DokLab Navarra, I recall an exercise in that workshop where we had to choose a single image that captured the entire film and then develop the project from there.

I don’t remember exactly which image I chose, but I do recall that, for me, there were always two images. The first showed Inés completely focused on her work, acting with great professionalism; the second showed her surrounded by friends.

Looking at the film now, during the editing process, I realize that this has always been its essence: the contrasts—these two distinct worlds—and how she exists between them. It was crucial to emphasize that neither world defines her. The same applies to the moments you mentioned—the *quinceañera* celebration, or her conversation with her mother about whether she should have been a man (given that she is constantly surrounded by men).

What’s interesting about Inés is that she isn’t just one thing; she contains multitudes. I find that truly remarkable—both about her and about any teenager. I believe we all contain multitudes; we have the capacity to do so many different things, and we shouldn’t be defined by just one. It was also important not to pigeonhole Inés by her profession, or to suggest that she is the way she is simply because of her job.

FICM: Of course. You can see her as a companion, a daughter, a coworker, someone who falls in love, someone who takes dance classes—I found that truly incredible.

Pablo Vaca: If you think about it, we all are, or all were like that as teenagers. The truth is, we are multifaceted; we have so many interests and such curiosity about the world that we contain multitudes.

FICM: Regarding your work with a camera: we live in a country sadly plagued by constant violence. For a long time, Pinotepa Nacional was considered one of the most dangerous cities in the country.

What was it like for you to approach Pinotepa Nacional with a camera and a microphone and arrive at cordoned-off scenes? What were you feeling? What were you thinking?

Pablo Vaca: My approach was always to try to show Inés’s two worlds, while maintaining deep respect for both sides. I didn’t want to pigeonhole Inés into just one thing, nor did I want to define Pinotepa and the coastal region solely by the violence—because they, too, contain multitudes.

The coast is a very joyful place. The people there are very happy and take great pride in their roots. I didn’t want to tarnish their reputation; that would have made me very sad.

That is the reality of Mexico. The reality we live in is quite strange, yet—despite the violence—there are still spaces where one can find great happiness, joy, and a sense of resistance against the reality we inhabit.

For me, that was the crucial point: not to pigeonhole Pinotepa, but to showcase its diversity and the lives of the adolescents there. Their lives are not so different from those of people living here—in Mexico City, Cancún, Aguascalientes, or Mérida.

FICM: Yes, I think Forensita is a documentary that does it in a very noble, very real way. Returning to your time at DokLab Navarra—how do you feel that experience enriched the project?

Pablo Vaca: DokLab was incredible. It’s one of the aspects of this project’s development that I’m most grateful for. It connected me with very empathetic mentors who were genuinely excited about the project. I met friends that I love very much.

Everyone in that workshop was deeply invested in each other’s stories. We’re still in touch, celebrating one another’s successes, and helping each other however we can.

What DokLab Navarra gave me was the chance to join a global community of filmmakers—that’s really significant. I’m not sure how common this is, but for me, it’s rare to find spaces like this where you can connect with other directors, share what you’re working on, talk about the challenges you’re facing, and get some help.

FICM: I agree—that sense of community is essential, and it’s something that’s becoming increasingly clear in Mexico right now. There’s been some recent discussion about the emphasis placed on the Ariel Awards and what that signifies for Mexican filmmakers. We truly need that sense of community—to stay connected rather than remaining so isolated from one another’s work.

Pablo Vaca: Absolutely. I’d also like to give a shout-out to DocsMX; I participated in a couple of their workshops, and it was a very similar experience. In Mexico, people are creating these spaces to foster a broader documentary community and find new forms of support. I think that’s incredibly important.

I’ll be forever grateful to DocsMX, too. They were very generous with us and with Forensita.

FICM:  Now, regarding your debut feature—seeing it edited, ready for screening, and about to begin its festival run—how do you feel?

Pablo Vaca: I’m very nervous about the premiere in Morelia and seeing what people think and have to say. Feedback always makes me nervous, but I’m also really excited.

I’ve seen the film far too many times by now. It’s impressive; every time I finish watching it, I feel very proud of the work the entire team accomplished together, the respect with which we told this story, and the approach we took in engaging with Inés and her family.

It’s a story that, toward the end—for some reason—leaves a sense of happiness or fulfillment regarding adolescence. It’s truly moving for me to see how people respond to it.

FICM: Since you mentioned the team, I’m quite curious about this: how many people made up your crew?

Pablo Vaca: The film crew consisted of six people: production, myself, the photographer, and the sound engineer. There were seven of us, actually: three from production, me, the photographer, the sound engineer, and a camera assistant. There were times when the crew was smaller—we would scale it down—and other times when everyone was present.

FICM: Finally, regarding the image work, there is great care and respect with the images in the morgue. Thanks to Inés and her personality, they convey a sense of—almost—tranquility, a feeling of rest. What was the process behind that work?

Pablo Vaca: I decided that the moment I met Inés. For me, the most important thing in this story was Inés—how she navigated her work environment and the family trade.

My goal was to portray her; adding anything else would have taken us away from the story and shifted the focus away from Inés. It was a commitment to the story I was telling: Inés and how she interacted with her coworkers. That is what has always interested me.

What you say about all these curiosities or questions you have—I find that truly wild and very exciting. That is what we are about to encounter now, with the audience.

The moment the film premieres in Morelia, it’s no longer ours; it belongs to all of you, the audience. You will all have things to share with us about your own lives. That reflection between the film and people’s real lives—I feel that will be incredibly enriching and very exciting.