After each film Gregory Nava has directed since I’ve known him, we’ve had what I call The Conversation. It begins with Greg saying, “That’s it. My last one. I’ll never make another movie."

After principle photography of El Norte (1983) , after editing A Time of Destiny (1987), after My Family, Mi Familia (1995), Selena (1996), and Why Do Fools Fall in Love (1998) we’ve had The Conversation. Greg shakes his head and says, “I won’t go through it again. Your every hope and dream is met with unimaginable obstacles and disasters. This is my last film. I’ll never make another movie.” I listen. I commiserate. I argue, laugh, and say, “You’ll never stop making movies, Greg, simply because you love them.”

The joy we experience when a movie actually moves us, is unpredictable and priceless. Many of us have experienced that joy soon after reading the words, “A film by Gregory Nava”. So where is the source of this joy, of this love of storytelling? I have a theory. Greg is one of the most well-read and near-to-genius people that I’ve known. He knows something about everything. Opera, world history, environmental politics, medieval battles, gourmet wines, Buddhism, baseball, boxing, and Greek mythology – to name a few. But get him on a subject of anything Latino, and his face lights up with this great love and passion for his culture, and our lives. Simply put, Greg loves our stories, our language, our families, our shared and distinct histories as a diverse Latino community. And it shows.

I’ve sat in screenings of Mi Familia and marveled at the sight of men of all ages and types: grown men, young vatos, hardcore cholos, working class men, white collar businessmen, union leaders, and little boys – crying in the dark. Crying at the images of their families, wives, sisters, hermanos, primos and themselves reflected on the silver screen. Crying for the character’s and therefore their own predicament, joy, or epiphany. I’ve sat in Sunday matinee screenings of Selena filled with wailing babies and crowded with beautiful brown faces of little girls watching their heroine, their history, and therefore themselves on the screen. This is the gift Greg has given to all of us – a realistic image of ourselves, sixty feet high.

I’ve seen Greg’s films with audiences in theatres across the country. I’ve seen his films with Hollywood studio executives, and grassroots community organizations. I’ve seen Greg’s films with an audience that included the Southwest Education Voters, the National Hispanic Congressional Caucus and the President of the United States. At all these screenings, our stories, our history, our images were met with laughter, cheers, tears, pride, and probably most important of all - recognition of self.

Greg Nava loves Latinas. He’s created some of the most memorable Latina characters in contemporary film. El Norte has both “Rosa” and “Nacha”, two strong-willed women from different worlds, bonding together with hope and friendship and love. “Maria” in Mi Familia is the bravest Latina set on celluloid, and “Tony” is “the most beautiful girl in the neighborhood.” As a Latina, “Tony”, personifies a woman’s love for her community, her family, and in the end, her man. In fact, she loved her man so much, she gives up her religious calling to be with him. That’s one strong Chicana. With Selena he celebrated the remarkable life and undeniable talent of a shooting star, along with the unconditional love between a daughter and father. Greg also almost singled-handedly launched the campaign for all Latinas to love, and rejoice in their bodies resulting in what can only be describe as “the age of the beautiful big butt-Latina”.

Greg loves our history. The repatriation so many Mexican families experienced during the ’30s was for a very long time, our own “dark little secret”. Up to that time I, like so many other Chicanos, had only heard the story at family gatherings. Since told in Mi Familia, it now belongs to the world. He loves our music. Listen to haunting sounds of Los Folkloristas in El Norte, listen to Los Lobos in Mi Familia, or anything from Selena and you’ll feel it.

My friend Danny De La Paz once said, “Latinos realize Greg is writing their history, our history, in shadows and light, and they love him for it.” Walk with Greg Nava in any city with a sizable Latino population and you will see him approached by someone Latino, be it Mexican, Puerto Rican, Cuban, Central or South American, rich, poor, educated, drop out, beauty queen or storekeeper. They stop to tell him how much they enjoyed El Norte, or Mi Familia, or Selena. They tell him how his films affected them, or their tía, or their mother, or how it is their family’s story, or even how they would have told the story. They do this because they trust Greg will listen to them. They do this because they claim Greg as their own; after all, he’s one of us.

Movies we love leave us with a haunting image or a distinct feeling that can return without a moment’s notice, quite similar to cupid’s arrow. From El Norte many may remember the harrowing and horrifying rat tunnel scene. Some may remember the washing machine scene or the “learn to talk like a Mexican” scene. Say El Norte, and I see Rosa’s face as she discovers her mother missing, the very essence of her replaced by a flock of butterflies. Mi Familia is basically about love. A family’s love for each other, for their culture, as they discover what they will sacrifice for each other, what they will give, and take from each other. And in the end, it’s about one man’s love for his woman, his wife, his family. I close my eyes and see “Maria” in the river with her baby, I see “Jimmy” walking down a street in East L.A., and dancing salsa with his new wife. Selena is love. The love of a father, the love of a husband, the love Selena had for her community, and how much they loved her right back. In what must be considered one of Hollywood’s great entrances, I’ll always remember Selena being met with an ocean of love by fans at Houston’s Astrodome. And yet, I think it is Eddie Olmos’ “It’s tough to be a Mexican American” speech that I love the most, because it makes me love myself!

Greg’s love for filmmaking is only surpassed by his love for his family, for his sons Christopher and Teddy, for his long time partner Anna Thomas, and for his gente. I believe his love for the movies springs from those around him, offering the perfect environment to create films and movie images that so many Latinos can embrace and cherish, and in the end, love.

Greg’s love for the movies and his gente was nurtured during his childhood in San Diego by his parents Betty and Rudy, and his brother John (the accomplished artist and sculptor). His extended family lived on both sides of the border which was then only a little more than a checkstop. Greg spent as much time in Baja California as he did in California. His first film was made on 8 mm and titled The Day Everyone Disappeared. I don’t think the film has a Latino theme, but if viewed today, I’d bet we’d witness the beginnings of what would grow into a lifetime love, and result in some of the Latino community’s most beloved films.

“A Film by Greg Nava” means you’ll feel something good, you’ll laugh and cry, and you’ll leave with hope in your heart. It means you’ll see a movie that will allow you to look into your soul, and into his heart. After each film he finishes, I’ve come to expect The Conversation. But I know Greg Nava will never stop making film, because Greg Nava loves the movies. And, we the audience, all share in that love.

– 14 Febrero, 1999