Let me tell you about a film that’s not just breaking barriers—it’s tearing down walls. Alina Șerban’s I Matter isn’t just another indie drama; it’s a seismic shift in how we talk about identity, privilege, and the invisible struggles of marginalized communities. And here’s the kicker: it’s the first feature film by a Roma woman to land in a top-tier festival. That’s not just a box-checking milestone. It’s a revolution in slow motion.
I’ve watched enough films to know that stories about systemic disadvantage often feel like they’re being told through a filter. But Șerban’s work? It’s raw, unflinching, and deeply personal. Her protagonist, Rebeca, isn’t just a character—she’s a mirror held up to the world. When Rebeca clings to the hope of her father’s release, it’s not just about family. It’s about the crushing weight of belonging to a community that’s constantly told it doesn’t belong. What makes this particularly fascinating is how Șerban turns a personal narrative into a universal one. This isn’t just a Roma story—it’s a human story about resilience, but also about the cost of that resilience. How many of us have had to choose between our roots and our dreams? Rebeca’s journey forces us to confront that choice head-on.
Now, let’s talk about the production. The film is a co-production with a laundry list of international partners, including ZDF, ARTE, and the Romanian Film Center. But here’s what I find especially interesting: the support from European institutions. This isn’t just a local success—it’s a European one. And that’s significant. When a film like I Matter gets backing from the European Union’s Media Programme, it signals something bigger. It suggests that the narrative of marginalization is finally being taken seriously at a policy level. But don’t get too comfortable. The fact that this is still a breakthrough moment for Roma filmmakers speaks volumes about the systemic neglect of their voices in global cinema.
Șerban herself is no stranger to breaking molds. She’s an actress turned director, a graduate of NYU and RADA, and a Knight of Romania’s Order of Cultural Merit. Yet, here she is, fighting for her story to be told on the same stage as everyone else. What many people don’t realize is that her journey mirrors the very struggles her film portrays. She’s not just directing a film—she’s reclaiming a narrative that’s been stolen from her people for generations. And that’s why I Matter resonates so powerfully. It’s not just about Rebeca’s choices; it’s about the choices that have been made for Roma people for centuries.
The film’s producers, including Ada Solomon of Microfilm, speak passionately about the ‘human touch’ in Pluto Film’s approach. But let’s be real: this isn’t just about finding the right distributor. It’s about ensuring that a story that’s been silenced for too long finally gets the platform it deserves. And yet, I can’t help but wonder—how many other Roma filmmakers are out there, waiting for their turn? How many stories are still buried under the weight of stereotypes and systemic bias? I Matter is a beacon, but it’s also a reminder of how far we have to go.
If you take a step back and think about it, this film isn’t just about a girl trying to escape her past. It’s about the entire Roma community’s struggle to be seen, heard, and respected. And that’s why it’s so important. When a film like this gets international attention, it doesn’t just open doors for Șerban—it opens doors for everyone who’s ever felt invisible. What this really suggests is that cinema, at its best, is a tool for change. But it’s also a weapon of exclusion when the right stories aren’t told. I Matter is a call to action. It’s a challenge to the industry to look beyond the familiar and embrace the uncomfortable truths that lie beneath the surface. And if that’s not a reason to pay attention, I don’t know what is.
