I first learned of We Shall Not Be Moved (No Nos Moveran in Spanish) over ten months ago when I was asked by the good people of the Virginia Film Festival to conduct a Q&A with the film’s producer (Victor Leycegui) after the showing. I asked for a digital screener so that I could prep my questions, and, well, make certain that I liked the film. To put it mildly, I more than liked the movie. I was knocked out by Director Pierre Saint-Martin’s very personal film about an aging attorney named Socorro, who believes she has found the soldier who killed her brother over fifty years ago during the student uprising in Mexico City. Known as the Tlatelolco Massacre, Saint-Martin skillfully incorporates the historical event into We Shall Not Be Moved.
The film had a long six-year journey to the screen. We Shall Not Be Moved first won the Audience Award for Best Film at the Guadalajara Film Festival and the Programmer’s Award for Best Narrative Film in Virginia. Just last month, the film received a whopping fifteen nominations from the Ariel Awards (the Mexican equivalent of the BAFTAS or the Oscars). Later this year, the producers of the film will submit We Shall Not Be Moved for Oscar consideration in the category of Best Foreign Language Film—an honor the movie would greatly deserve.
As I said, the road to here has not been easy for Leycegui and Saint-Martin. I recently sat down with the already accomplished director to discuss the genesis, creation, and release of We Shall Not Be Moved.
Saint-Martin and Leycegui originally submitted the film’s screenplay (written by Saint-Martin and Iker Compean Leroux) for funding consideration to IMCINE (the Mexican Film Institute) in 2018. The national government is a strong, but selective supporter of the arts. Their prospective film was rejected in both 2018 and 2019, but the third time proved to be the charm in 2020. While the news of federal funding was received with great enthusiasm by Saint-Martin, as he told me, “I was full of joy. I was so happy. Then I realized…Now I have to do it.”
Ever the perfectionist, Saint-Martin struggled in the early part of filming due to his desire to get every moment just right. Eventually, he had to relinquish his ego and desire for control. He received encouragement from Executive Producer Pablo Zimbron Alva, who kept reminding Saint-Martin that “we are doing well,” and that he should be confident in the film’s progress. Remarkably, while Saint-Martin has made several short films, We Shall Not Be Moved was his first feature-length movie as a director. I say remarkably because the film feels like the work of a confident and masterful filmmaker.
Confidence is not what Saint-Martin was feeling early on. After the first take of one scene, Saint-Martin’s Assistant Director asked him if he wanted to do another take and gave him three options of how to do it. However, Saint-Martin did not understand all of the options because he didn’t have the filmmaking vocabulary at the time. Thankfully, the AD simply explained the options more thoroughly without embracing any desire to question the director’s acumen. As Saint-Martin put it, “So early in the film, she knew she would have crushed me” if she had pointed out his lack of knowledge.
The truth is, while We Shall Not Be Moved is an indie film through and through with a modest budget, a small cast, and essentially one location, the subject matter is decidedly complex. The synopsis of the movie would lead the reader to believe that We Shall Not Be Moved is a septuagenarian revenge thriller. While that is the linchpin the film hangs from, it’s not really what the movie is about. We Shall Not Be Moved is a film about regret, guilt, and the price of obsession.

The character of Socorro is based on Saint-Martin’s mother. When the writer/director first conceived of the film, he drew on elements from his own life and incorporated them into the narrative. Saint-Martin’s mother lost her brother when he was only seventeen in a violent manner. While her brother was not killed in the ‘68 massacre, he did die around the same time. By fictionalizing his killing into the Tlatelolco Massacre, Saint-Martin added layers of depth and history to his film. Also, like Socorro, Saint-Martin’s mother was ailing at the time, and there was a genuine concern that she would not survive her illness. In the film, Socorro has a son named Jorge who is unemployed and aimless. Jorge is based on Saint-Martin himself. As Saint-Martin told me, “My mother was worried about me. About my future. And she had reasons to do so. I was drifting.”
Saint-Martin poured himself into the screenplay for We Shall Not Be Moved, in part to prove himself and to honor his mother. I asked Saint-Martin if his mother is as tough as Socorro. He smiled and simply replied, “Yes.” The film is built around the character of Socorro, whose lack of vanity and downturn in health is only matched by her disagreeable and difficult nature. In discussing the character of Socorro, I told Saint-Martin that everything hinges on the performance of Luisa Huertas, a veteran Mexican actress who gives one of the best turns of any actor in recent memory.
Saint-Martin did not disagree with my assessment. In casting Huertas, he was looking for someone who “Looked like my mom. But I also needed to learn her personality.” Saint-Martin watched several interviews with Huertas that are available online. He could hear her voice and envision her as the on-screen physical manifestation of his mother. It’s fair to say that Saint-Martin hit the lottery with Huertas. As he pointed out, “She gave me more than I asked for.” During the film’s penultimate face-off between Socorro and the man she suspects killed her brother, Saint-Martin had told Huertas to play the scene as exhausted, and “out of gas.” Huertas certainly did just that, but she also added the element of fear. The fear of doubt. The fear of reaching a destination and not knowing if that’s where you wanted to end up after all. Huertas gives an extraordinary performance that Streep, Blanchett, or any other great actress would be proud to claim as their own.
When I think of We Shall Not Be Moved, I’m almost amazed that the film got made at all. Here was a pitch from a first-time feature-length director that put a senior citizen front and center, was shot in black and white, rarely leaves the lead’s overstuffed apartment, and doesn’t culminate in a flashy revenge thriller manner. Saint-Martin is grateful to the Mexican Film Institute, as am I, along with a growing legion of film goers.
When I asked Saint-Martin about the claustrophobic setting of Socorro’s high-rise apartment unit in a complex with a broken elevator, as it turns out, necessity was the mother of invention. The film’s budget didn’t allow for many locations, so Saint-Martin turned the apartment unit and the building that houses it into an oppressive force—a character in its own right. Then, when you add in that Socorro’s sister (who she hasn’t spoken to for more than a decade), her son, and her daughter-in-law, who live in this tight space full of papers, files, other clutter, and some friendly pigeons, you can almost feel the oxygen in the apartment compressing.

As challenging as Socorro’s personality is, there’s a decidedly lovely scene between her and her daughter-in-law Lucia (the effortlessly outstanding Agustina Quinci) in the first half of the film. The two women are tired. Socorro from a lifetime of guilt and poor health, and Lucia from having to carry the financial weight of her marriage, and carrying herself up those twenty flights to the apartment door. Socorro and Lucia share a cigarette and a drink. They talk easily about the mundane and the significant. To watch these two actors together is to feel as if you are eavesdropping, not watching a film. Saint-Martin shared with me that he didn’t have the actors rehearse the scene, in the hope that their interplay would be natural and not overly studied. It’s one of the best scenes in a film with nothing but great scenes.
During our conversation, the now-esteemed filmmaker was in a reflective mood. He spoke of his inspirations: Wenders, Tarantino, and Gus Van Sant. In fact, Saint-Martin cribbed from Van Sant regarding the overarching theme of his movie. As Saint-Martin stated, “I made this film from a place of love and surrender. I wanted to tell my mother to shut up, to listen, and most importantly, that it’s not your fault.” You may remember that line about fault being delivered by Robin Williams to Matt Damon in Good Will Hunting. While that sentence isn’t spoken in Saint-Martin’s film, the point lands with the same strength of emphasis.
It’s been a long journey for Saint-Martin from submission to completion, and the director hopes that all the attention the film has received will “make it easier to make the next one.” I am hopeful, too. I asked Saint-Martin to do me a favor as we closed out the interview. He looked at me quizzically and smiled. “What?” he said.
“Make more movies,” I replied.
We Shall Not Be Moved is now playing in theaters in Mexico, and the filmmakers are negotiating for a theatrical release in the United States, with streaming options to follow.








