The Latin American and Caribbean Area Studies program showcased a screening of “Perro Bomba” for their Afro-Latin American Festival last Wednesday. The event began with a few words from Giovanna Montenegro, the director of LACAS and an associate professor of comparative literature and romance languages.

The Haitian Student Association, a club that spreads awareness on campus about Haitian culture, introduced the basic plot of the film before its screening.

The film, “Perro Bomba,” directed by Juan Cáceres, describes the story of a young Haitian immigrant named Steevens, played by Steevens Benjamin, who settles in Chile and experiences deep racist reactions in an urban environment. The film is entirely shot in Creole and Spanish, emphasizing the linguistic and cultural duality of the charactersʼ experiences.

Steevens built a stable life in Santiago. He integrated into his community, formed friendships and enjoyed simple yet meaningful moments. His world seemed secure until the arrival of Junior, played by Junior Valcin, a childhood friend from Haiti.

Eager to help, Steevens gets Junior a job at the same construction company where he works. At first, things go smoothly, but there’s one major obstacle — Junior doesn’t speak Spanish.

Tensions come to a head during a lunch break with their coworkers. Their boss, played by Alfredo Castro, who they refer to as “Jefe” in the film, enters the scene. Frustrated with Junior not knowing Spanish, their boss mocks him openly, making racist remarks. Without permission, he grabs Steevens and Junior’s arms, placing them side by side. Smirking, he asks, “Are there differences between blacks?” His colorism is blatant, and he revels in his cruelty.

The harassment escalates. After being bullied by Peruvian coworkers, Junior once again finds himself the target of workplace harassment. This time, his boss goes even further, degrading Junior and Haitians as a whole. Unable to hold back any longer, Steevens snaps. He attacks the boss in a moment of raw anger — a moment that is caught on video and spreads online.

The fallout is swift and unforgiving. He is on the news. His community turns on him. Friends abandon him. He loses his legal status, his job and his home.

Forced onto the streets of Santiago, Steevens struggles to survive. The walls of society close in, pushing him further into the margins. To avoid being recognized, he cuts off his long locs — shedding a part of himself in the process.

Desperation leads him down paths he never imagined. He takes odd jobs, many exploitative, compromising his morals and even his sexuality.

He meets Esperanza, played by Blanca Lewin, a pro bono lawyer who offers to help him regain his legal status. But even this opportunity is laced with exploitation.

One night, the homeless shelter is full. With nowhere to go, he ends up at Esperanza’s apartment. The power dynamic shifts as she satisfies her own desires under the guise of offering refuge — another transaction in a world that constantly takes from him.

As Steevens spirals further into survival at any cost, he is forced to question what remains of himself in a society that refuses to see him as anything more than an outsider.

Throughout the film, food arguably serves as a symbol of unity and community. It is a shared experience that brings people together, fostering warmth and connection. Nearly every meal scene is filled with joy —people laughing, appreciating the food and embracing the sense of belonging it provides.

At the beginning of the movie, over a dinner of stew chicken and plantains, an older Haitian man says, “They make us believe God is a white man.”

Food becomes more than just sustenance in this film. It is a space where people feel comfortable enough to express themselves freely and speak the truth.

That’s why it’s so disheartening when “Jefe” disrupts Steevens and Junior’s meal at work, shattering that sense of comfort and community. What was once a safe space for connection and free expression becomes a moment of humiliation and division.

When asked about the use of cultural food in the film, Montenegro spoke about her own experiences. She said that food serves as a way for people to connect with their culture. For her, having grown up eating plantains, there’s nothing better than seeing Caribbean food represented on screen. Watching “plátanos” being cooked brings a sense of familiarity, joy and festivity.

After the screening, Robyn Cope, an associate professor of romance languages and literatures, facilitated a discussion, encouraging students to reflect on the film. The conversation revisited key themes such as masculinity, youth and colorism, allowing the audience to express their emotions and interpretations. In spring 2026, Cope will be teaching a course related to themes of slavery and colonialism in the Caribbean titled “Maroon Nation.”

Reactions varied: Some students voiced frustration, while others expressed outright anger over the film’s pivotal moments. A few even described a sense of hopelessness as they watched the story unfold.

Cope continued the discussion throughout the night, encouraging the audience to reflect on the real-life issues portrayed in the film. The conversation allowed students to brainstorm and share their thoughts on the film’s social and cultural themes.

When asked about the choice of film and how it related to colorism and awareness, Montenegro reiterated the event’s purpose.

“I think that’s part of what the festival is trying to address as well, looking at the multitude of Caribbean and Latin American identities,” Cope said.

Cope added: “And how those are juxtaposed or intertwined and sometimes align or not.”

The event was in collaboration with the Romance Languages and Literatures Department, the Institute of Genocide and Mass Atrocity Prevention, the Department of Political Science, the Department of Africana Studies, and LACAS students and faculty.

The film highlighted Afro-Latin American voices, struggles and systemic racism through the lens of a young Black man. Touching on the pressures immigrants face, the screening prompted conversation and raised awareness of overlooked marginalized groups.