PARA ROSA: FILM REVIEW
Kathryn Boyd-Batstone’s short film Para Rosa (For Rosa) opens with an intense montage of its Latina protagonist, Eva (Melinna Bobadilla), in the throes of labor at the hospital. Preparing to give birth is already a stressful ordeal, but the film’s shaky and up-close camera-work hints that Eva’s situation is riddled with more uncertainty than normal. A white doctor beside her bed hurriedly tells her, “We’re going to have to do an emergency C-Section.” “Is my baby going to be okay?” she anxiously asks. He remains silent, avoiding eye contact and scribbling discreetly on his clipboard. Communication is intentionally scarce, and it is clear that the doctors are hiding something — but what? Non-consensual, forced sterilization, it turns out.
In Para Rosa, Kathryn Boyd-Batstone uses the story of a fictional mother named Eva to shed light on the Madrigal Ten, a group of ten Latina women who filed a lawsuit against L.A. County-USC Medical Center in the 1970s for being sterilized without their consent while giving birth. The story in itself is unbelievably horrid, and perhaps is made more so by the fact that it took place only fifty-some years ago.
Para Rosa’s tension is carefully crafted in the film’s early stages. Eva and her husband Jorge (Rick Mancia) are at a party, and the other women there are constantly harping Eva on when she is planning on having a second or third child. Eva plays along with the teasing, but when the film shows the couple having an intimate conversation at home on their bed, it is clear that having a daughter is something Eva really wants — and she even has a name for her: Rosa. For a moment, everything is sweet. A blanket of bliss is wrapped around the small family.
But shortly after, the reality of such a dream comes crumbling down when a young lawyer (Idalia Valles) shows up at Eva’s door — and breaks the news that the mother refuses to hear: on the day she gave birth to her son, she unknowingly signed a sterilization consent form thrown in her face by doctors at the hospital. Eva insists that it didn't happen. How could that be? Hernandez shows her documents which she obtained from a whistleblower — and at the bottom is Eva’s signature. The film transitions to a flashback of that exact moment, when doctors manipulatively claim that her baby will die unless she signs those forms.
The film is heartbreaking up until its final moments, as it depicts the young attorney (in real life named Antonia Hernández) and the Madrigal Ten gathering around a table for the first time, preparing to share their stories and take on a legal battle against Los Angeles County and the USC Medical Center. For these women, it is the beginning of their pursuit for justice — a step that requires an insurmountable level of courage and sacrifice to take.
But simultaneously, the reality of what happened reads across the screen, with each sentence paired with a photo of one of the Madrigal Ten looking straight into the camera. “The Madrigal Ten claim being pressured to sign for sterilization. On June 7th, 1978, U.S. District Court cites no deliberate intent to hurt the women. Judge Jesse Curtis rules in favor of the hospital.”
Although the Madrigal Ten lost Madrigal v. Quilligan, the lawsuit was a catalyst for California’s strengthened regulations about voluntary consent to sterilization and increased public awareness about coerced sterilization. Undoubtedly, Para Rosa highlights a story of an ugly and unfounded injustice (one that still occurs today), as well as the resilience of the women who were subject to it — one that will never be forgotten.