La Mami (2019)

　　In the Barba Azul Cabaret in Mexico City, the women dance and drink with the men who can afford it. In the little restroom upstairs, Mami looks after them at the start and end of their shifts. As long as Mami gets her tip, she looks after the bags, makes sure there’s enough toilet paper, and is always ready for a comforting or supportive heart-to-heart. She’s quick to deliver one of her idiosyncratic maxims, such as, “Men are only good for two things: for nothing, and for money.” 　　This intimate documentary is largely set within the four walls of Mami’s domain. Among the girls and women putting on their makeup in front of the mirrors, we principally follow the newest dancer, Priscilla. She started dancing at the cabaret so she can afford to pay the hospital bills for her 22-year-old son, who has cancer. For her, and many of the other women, Mami’s room is a safe haven, an almost motherly shelter in a nocturnal world that’s being transformed.