DOC EDGE 13 REVIEW | Reportero
The closing shot is of veteran journalist and protagonist Sergio Haro behind the wheel of his car. It is nighttime, but it is more likely he is driving to a story or to the office than home. He says, “For the rest of my life, I only want to be a reporter.” The question is, when you are a reporter in Mexico exposing drug trafficking and the corrupt people behind it, how long is your life?
Reportero, a documentary by Bernardo Ruiz, follows Sergio Haro as he works for Semanario Zeta, a Tijuana newspaper known for its confrontational editorial stance on drugs and organized crime. It charts the history of Zeta and the past murders of colleagues that weigh heavily on the minds of those still practicing investigative journalism.
The journalists equivocate for only a nanosecond, verbalizing the secret temptation to just make life easier and self-censor, ignore certain stories or even change profession completely. However, the steely resolution always returns to their spines. They will not be complicit. They will fight for freedom of speech. They will risk their lives for truth. The bravery of and within the documentary is inspiring to say the least.
In 1988, one of the co-founders of Zeta, Héctor “El Gato” Félix Miranda, known for mocking politicians and the elite, was murdered. The mastermind behind his murder was never investigated, and was even elected mayor of Tijuana. After publishing the photo of a drug lord of the Félix Cartel, the other co-founder of Zeta, Jesús Blancornelas, managed to survive an assassination attempt on his life. A beloved editor of Zeta, Francisco Ortiz, was murdered in front of his children after publishing the photos of hit men for the Félix Cartel. Again working for Zeta, Sergio Haro had left at one time to start another publication called Siete Días with Benjamín Flores, who is described as principled, daring and audacious. However, the next frame is a headline with the title “Bullet-ridden journalist!” and the sudden loss of such ideals and promise merits an intake of breath.
Zeta stands as a prime example of what investigative publications face in Mexico, caught in the crosshairs of the drug cartels. More than 40 journalists have been murdered or gone missing since December 2006, when President Felipe Calderón Hinojosa came to power and launched a government offensive against the drug cartels. However, the deaths of slain journalists are not thoroughly investigated. Of Flores’ murderer, who was arrested for another crime and subsequently set free, Haro laments that “They [the broken Mexican judicial system] might as well have asked for his forgiveness.”
Despite the demoralizing deaths of colleagues and moments where even the most steadfast want to give up, the most important message Reportero communicates is one of perpetual hope. This is represented by Haro, whose wife says that no matter how dangerous it gets she could never ask him to stop doing what he loves and whose editor says he constantly fights to cover socially significant stories. The documentary also shows Zeta training new journalists, reassuring the audience that there will always be someone willing to fight for justice.
Reportero is a solid documentary made with conviction. The voices in it are neither sensationalist nor dramatic, but honest and tempered. The journalists featured in it are professionals who believe in their vocation. Documentaries that juggle between past and present can end up unbalanced, but Reportero manages the balancing act perfectly.
Although Reportero will be particularly resonant with people in the journalism profession, it is also an inspirational portrayal about what it means to stand up for your beliefs, even in the face of death.
First published for Mac+Mae 2013.