SXSW Interview: José María Cabral On the Vibrant Culture of ’42nd Street’

Music has been an integral part of Latina American culture since time immemorial, with many distinctive genres emerging from this region. One of those rapidly emerging in recent years is Dembow, an energetic interpretation of reggaeton and Jamaican dancehall. The music has captured the creative imagination of younger generations, as is vividly documented in José María Cabral’s new film 42nd Street. As the film premiered at SXSW, Awards Radar sat with Cabral to talk about its exploration of the music’s anti-establishment ethos and the titular community that serves as the music’s capital.

Shane Slater: What inspired you to make this film? Where you familiar with the community?

José María Cabral: I knew about it, because in the pandemic, it started just blowing up on the internet, and everybody was talking about it. And I knew there was something special, but I didn’t know what I was gonna do with it. Like, what was the film gonna be? I didn’t even know the genre. I just started going there and and then visiting for months and months, and then I even stayed there. I’d ask Demetal to look for a place for me to stay, and in that moment, I knew I wanted to follow these real characters.

And that’s when I knew, this is better as a documentary, because you can actually feel that we’re following real people, and this is their real lives. Even though there’s kind of a hybrid in the film, it’s from real characters, real scenes and real people. So I think I thought that by making a documentary, it will honor the place more than me trying to do a fiction version.

SS: What informed the choice of having a narrator?

JMC: Zuami was really important to Demetal and was really important to the shift of what those kids – who are now adults – but those kids back in the 90s, what they were going to become and how they changed. A group of artists doing something different. That’s one reason.

And the other reason that’s really important, is that a lot of the anecdotes and a lot of the stories you hear when you’re there, are about people who are dead now. And most of them died in an unjust matter, many of them by the hands of the police.

So I think we needed to give a voice to them, because you feel that they’re there still. We can’t see them, but we can hear them though their stories. And that’s how I felt that Zuami had to become part of the documentary. We don’t see him, even though we see some pictures, but we don’t see him as a character. But we listen to him as a character in the movie. So it was like bringing back to life this important man who didn’t live to see the change of what is 42nd street today. And he would be actually very impressed.

SS: There are so many interesting characters in this community. How did you decide to frame the film around Demetal?

JMC: Well, he was the first person I met. And I understood that whoever goes there needs to speak to Demetal. Demetal is the one who’s been in charge of the whole production of music, art, dance, so I knew he was going to be a central figure in the documentary. But I didn’t want him to be the only one, because I learned in the research process that there’s a community there. Maybe Demetal is a kind of a leader, but he’s not alone. It’s not only Demetal’s art. Even though he’s a music producer, he doesn’t do music himself. He actually champions other people’s work.

So seeing that and seeing that sense of community, when I understood that, it was important for me to follow a few characters and then make the movie about them, not only about Demetal. But of course, Demetal is a central figure of everything. He lives there, he was born there, and he’s been there through all the changes of La cuarenta y dos. From being this place that nobody wants to come to, to the place that nobody wants to leave.

SS: In the film, it’s mentioned that anyone entering the community with a camera is assumed to be police. How were you able to be welcomed and be able to immerse yourself in this environment?

JMC: It’s always a challenge. But I was very welcomed. First, when you go to a community, you can’t go with the camera in your hands and start shooting. Before I had a camera on my hands. I was there for a few months, just having conversations, just having natural moments of seeing the sunset, having a beer, having a coffee, doing stuff. And then you start introducing yourself with the camera.

I even shot a documentary before shooting the real documentary. In the research process, I had a camera on me after a few months of just being there, then I started just shooting stuff, and then I even ended up cutting a film, which only I saw. But it helped me to have an idea of what the film was going to be about, and even sharing it with them so they had a sense of what we were going to do. And, yes, it’s about building trust. And I think you build trust by letting people know that they are also shaping the story. This is not the only film where I’ve done this. In Woodpeckers, that was from prison.

SS: I found it fascinating to see the Christian evangelists in the streets as well. What’s the context for how they operate in this environment?

JMC: It’s very interesting. I think it was one of the things that blew my mind, because when you’re there in the night, you only think about the parties. But of course, everyone in that place is trying to say something. They believe in something. Some people might believe in music. Some people believe in their religion and their God and and it’s very loud. Everybody’s trying to make a point in 42nd street, or in the whole Capotillo, but especially in that street.

So I knew that had to be part of the movie and it’s interesting how so many different points of view and oppositions are there. There’s the politicians, there’s the religious group, there’s the musicians, there’s the police, and everybody’s trying to make a point in 42nd street. And that’s why I think it’s so vivid and so alive. And it’s 24/7. I think a lot about that even in the title 42nd street. You think about Times Square, right? 42nd Street, the city that never sleeps, in New York. It’s the same here. This is 42nd street in the Dominican Republic, on steroids.

[This interview has been edited for length and clarity]