Published in 10/08/2015


Spanish director, actress, screenwriter and presenter Mabel Lozano made her name over a decade ago as one of Spanish TV’s best-known faces. In 2007, in a radical career move, Lozano decided to swap TV for cinema, and embarked on a university course to learn the art of filmmaking. She produced her first feature-length documentary soon after, Voices Against Female Trafficking (Voces contra la trata de mujeres) (2007).

This first work, shot alternatively in Romania, Moldova and Spain, is a shocking denunciation of the buying and selling of female bodies – women and girls – narrated by the victims. Following this Lozano directed a short film Listen to me (Escúchame) (2011) that expresses the perspective of would-be “clients”, which was awarded over 32 prizes in different countries all over the globe. Her other works include The Spiralism theory (La teoría del espiralismo) (2009), The Wise Women of the Tribe (Las Sabias de la Tribu) (2010) and Mother (Madre) (2012), all of which bring various human rights causes to the big screen.

Moving on from victims and clients, Lozano’s latest film, New Girls 24 Hours, puts the spotlight on those who are more difficult to pin down: the abstract figures that make these prostitution networks flow all-too smoothly. Female trafficking is a business, and at that, a lucrative one, generating some 32 million dollars a year. The documentary opens our eyes to the fact that prostitution is a market in which everything is profit, since the body of a young and well-looked after woman can be sold several times a day. Comprising testimonies, interviews and images from over five different countries and two continents, this unique documentary reveals the perverted perspective of those involved in today’s thriving sex trade.

Touring Latin America, visiting film festivals as well as official governmental events, Lozano has been tirelessly raising awareness about this often overlooked issue. We are delighted that she has found time to come and speak to us at the Festival do Rio about her new film.

Why did you decide to make a third film denouncing sexual violence against women?

This has been my focus for over ten years now, both in filmmaking and more widely in human rights campaigns for the UN, the Spanish government and other organisations. But, over the past four years, I began to realise that that human-trafficking, in particular, female trafficking, is a global business and that fact needed to be brought to people’s awareness. I wanted to highlight that this industry uses the same working models – sourcing the base product, transportation, logistics, advertising – as every other industry, and is accepted as such by many sectors of society. I wanted to draw a revealing parallel between prostitution networks and other international trades.

Why did you decide to focus on Latin America?

I decided to film in the region because many Latin American women are taken from their countries of origin and sent to mine, to Spain. They speak the same language, so it’s easier for them to find work. For many Paraguayans or Bolivians my country is the European dream. Also, it was important to film in a variety of different locations to emphasise that we’re dealing with a global problem: victims sent from Colombia, Peru, Paraguay, Chile to work in Spain, Holland, China, Japan.

The film dwells on the complicity among large, international organisations that seem to be turning a blind eye, yet, on the other hand, includes interviews with government ministers, high-profile activists and heads of charities all fighting for this cause. Are you optimistic with regard to what we are doing today to combat female-trafficking?

No. No. Definitely not. The problem is that this is an international problem, but the solutions are not international. In Spain nobody cared about these women, because they weren’t our women. They didn’t have houses, they didn’t have ID, they weren’t worth worrying about. However, now, things are getting better. People are realising that these women might not be Spanish citizens, but we, as Spanish citizens, are complicit in this dirty trade. The issue is being debated on a social and political level, but I’m still pushing to get these voices represented on a judicial level, in legislation. We need to present a common front with common European laws. These women have nothing – they have no money, no education – so they’re easy targets for exploitation, abuse, rape. It’s terrible what’s happening, and we shouldn’t let it go on. We need to empower them.

Various women share their stories in the documentary. Was it difficult to encourage them to denounce what had happened to them?

It was extremely difficult. The hardest part about making a documentary about victims of sex-slavery is getting the victims themselves to testify. They’re worried about suffering more than they have already suffered: stigma, prejudices, public shaming, ostracisation by their friends and family. These victims see that their bodies have been violated, but they don’t see that their human rights have been violated too.  What I’m revealing to the camera is not their physical violation, but this violation of their human rights.

How did you combine your two roles – as a director of cinema and as an activist – in order to generate debate and raise awareness about this in our society?

On a cinematographic level, I could have made the whole thing far more sensationalist. I could have used alarming images in order to take advantage of human nature’s natural obsession with all things morbid. It’s easy to fall into that trap when you’re talking about sex-workers, because you’re talking about naked bodies. But I didn’t want to do that, out of respect for the women involved. I wanted to make something critical, serious and sincere. Chicas nuevas is much more than just a film, I believe it has political, social and educational relevance. We made a copy dubbed into Guaraní [Paraguay’s native language] so that it can be screened in over 1,400 schools in the indigenous region. We’re planning on doing the same into Quechan [Peru’s native language]. There’s a corresponding exhibition on display in Spain, there’s a best-selling book out and we’re channeling our productions through all the social networks we can. Actually, in Spain we’ve succeeded in starting a radical movement. The film is a success and the exhibition is sold out until 2017! But there is still a long way to go until we can truly say we’re combating female-trafficking.


By Gill Harris



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