Lens

As Mayela got off the bus, she saw Immigration and Customs Enforcement officers raiding the pupusería she worked at in Los Angeles. The undocumented transgender Salvadoran woman watched from behind a car as her co-workers — including another trans Central American woman — were handcuffed and taken away in broad daylight.

“I had so much hope when I arrived to this country,” Mayela, played by Fernanda Celarie, says in her prayers later on. “Now that I’ve begun to feel comfortable living here, this is a nightmare. Why so much pain and suffering?”

“Trans Los Angeles” director Kase Peña wrote that scene into her feature film well before the ongoing ICE raids and subsequent protests in L.A., but the harsh reality of fear for the many undocumented people of the city was something she knew she needed to include.

“When I wrote it in 2021, ICE was a hot subject, and then it died down,” Peña told said ahead of her film’s premiere at the Los Angeles Latino International Film Festival on May 30. “My film was always relevant and needed. The fact that who we have in the White House right now makes my film even more relevant, more needed now that he’s brought the ICE thing back. That part [of the movie] is not going to look old. It’s unfortunate, but that’s going on.”

This is what Peña set out to do with her feature-length movie, which is composed of three non-overlapping vignettes sharing a wide-ranging set of experiences that Angelenos face daily.

Born and raised in New York, the Dominican American director moved to L.A. nearly a decade ago and was inspired to make her film after noticing a lack of representation for trans stories that reflected the realities of her community.

“When I started hanging with my trans community here in Los Angeles, my intentions were not to tell those stories,” Peña said. “It was something that I felt like there’s a void here, and I’m the right person to tell it because I’m both a filmmaker and a trans person.”

While the storylines of “Trans Los Angeles” drew inspiration from Peña’s personal experiences and fellow members of the trans community‘s stories, the film’s format was influenced by global cinema.

The director pulled from the seminal Soviet/Cuban political work “Soy Cuba” to land on the vignette structure of her film. She had originally wanted to mirror the 1964 movie’s four episodes but was unable to secure funding — a common dilemma faced by truly independent filmmakers — for her fourth snippet, which centered on a transmasculine character.

“A lot of people ask you questions like, ‘Why don’t the stories intertwine?’ It’s because it makes my life more difficult as an independent filmmaker,” she noted. “If you give me a million dollars, I can make the stories intertwined, but I was only getting enough money to shoot one segment at a time. I didn’t have money to shoot all three segments.”

These restraints forced “Trans Los Angeles” to be filmed over the course of several years. The first vignette, “Period,” was shot in March 2021; “Feliz Cumpleaños” was filmed soon after in June; “Trans Day of Remembrance” had to be pushed due to finances and was eventually recorded in November 2023 on Peña’s iPhone. That last segment was shot using “stolen locations” for exterior scene — the crew showed up to a spot and recorded without having film permits or insurance.

“That’s one reason why I decided to shoot it with my iPhone,” she said of the guerrilla filmmaking strategy. “If somebody would have came to me and said, ‘Hey, what are you guys doing over there?’ [We’d say] we’re just shooting something for Instagram on my iPhone. They’d be like, ‘Oh, OK.’”

The vignette “Period” centers on Vergara, a formerly incarcerated trans Latinx woman played by actor and model Carmen Carrera. The character lands a job as a nanny to a preteen girl while doing sex work on the side.

Carrera says she was drawn to the project because Peña’s script allowed her to portray a three-dimensional character.

“That is valuable because oftentimes us trans people are told that we’re not valuable, or that we’re wrong for existing, or that we shouldn’t be around kids, or we shouldn’t have responsibility or be people who are a contributing factor to society,” Carrera told said. . “It’s a reflection of my own life too. I am an active girlfriend, I am an active daughter, I’m an active sister. The trans experience is just a small part of my life. It’s not the totality of my human experience. I was just happy I felt more related to Vergara because it’s how I have always felt as well. In my own life, people judge me all the time.”

Another aspect of “Period” that connected Carrera to Vergara was the character’s relationship with her mother.

“I think as a first-generation American, you have that extra layer of [thinking], ‘My parents came to this country and sacrificed so much, and if I don’t make them proud it’s gonna be a waste,’ ” she said.

Central to the plot of “Period” was the community that Vergara was able to tap into thanks to the TransLatin@ Coalition, a real-life advocacy group based out of L.A. that seeks to create safe spaces for transgender, gender expansive and intersex immigrant women in the city.

“The reason the TransLatin@ Coalition is in the film is because that came from me,” Peña said. “I in real life have gone to TransLatin@ to seek the services that they provide for trans people of color. Because I’m a writer and I go there, I see this place and I’m like, ‘I can tell the story and include them.’ ”

The second segment of the feature, “Trans Day of Remembrance,” is named after the annual day of observance on Nov. 20 of those whose lives were lost due to transphobia.

The story follows Phoebe (Austria Wang), a Taiwanese American transgender woman, as she maneuvers her romantic life and processes the death of one of her fellow trans friends. For this vignette, Peña intentionally cast transmasculine actor Jordan Gonzalez to play Phoebe’s cis boyfriend, Sam. .

“We’ve had cisgender people play trans roles, and it’s the first time [Gonzalez has played a cisgender role]. It was something that they’ve been wanting to do for a while, but this industry doesn’t see them as that, because they only see them as trans,” Peña said. “It was something that they yearned for and perhaps now, because they’ve done it, other people would consider casting them that way too.”

The final segment, “Feliz Cumpleaños,” portrays an ICE raid on a Salvadoran business while telling the story of Mayela’s hopes and aspirations for her life as she prepares for her baptism at an LGBTQ+ friendly church.

As an outsider to the Salvadoran experience, Peña leaned on actual members of the Central American country to adjust and approve of her script.

“I want to acknowledge that I’m not from El Salvador. As a person of color, as a Dominican filmmaker, as a transgender filmmaker, I have often seen filmmakers from other communities come and tell my story, and they don’t check in,” Peña explained. “They think they can just write it. They don’t get it right sometimes, and then they go win major awards. I didn’t want to disrespect the community like that.”

Peña emphasizes that the movie tells stories that get to the heart of the struggle and beauty of being human in L.A.

But ultimately her film is only a slice of the overall trans experience, she says, a unique series of stories informed by a writer whose ethos can be encapsulated in her own views on her own trans identity.

“For me, being transgender is not about passing. Being transgender is about having the freedom to be who you are,” Peña said. “I’m not trying to look like a woman. This is me. That’s it, whatever that means.”

A day after federal agents forcibly restrained and handcuffed U.S. Sen Alex Padilla at a Los Angeles news conference, leaders of the country’s two political parties responded in what has become a predictable fashion — with diametrically opposed takes on the incident.

Padilla’s fellow Democrats called for an investigation and perhaps even the resignation of the senator’s nemesis, Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem, for what they described as the unprecedented manhandling of a U.S. senator who was merely attempting to ask a question of a fellow public official.

Noem and fellow Republicans continued to depict Padilla as a grandstander, whose unexpected appearance at Noem’s news conference seemed to her security detail to represent a threat, as she tried to speak to reporters at the Federal Building in Westwood.

Republicans continued Friday to chastise Padilla, using words like “launch,” “lunge” and “bum rush” to describe Padilla’s behavior as he began to try to pose a question to Noem at Thursday’s news conference.

The Trump administration official was just a few minutes into her meeting with reporters when Padilla moved assertively from the side of the room, pushing past a Times photographer as he moved to more directly address Noem. He did not lunge at Noem and was still paces away from her when her security detail grabbed the senator.

Padilla and his staff described how the veteran lawmaker went through security and was escorted by an FBI employee to the room where the press conference was held, saying it was absurd to suggest he presented a threat.

Padilla spoke out after the secretary asserted that her homeland security agents had come to L.A. to “liberate the city from the socialists and the burdensome leadership that the governor and the mayor have placed on this country.”

The former South Dakota governor would have some reason to recognize Padilla, since he questioned her during her Senate confirmation hearing. A spokesperson at the Homeland Security Department did not respond to a question of whether Noem recognized Padilla when he arrived at her press conference.

As has become the norm in the nation’s political discourse, Republicans and Democrats spoke about the confrontation Friday as if they had observed two entirely separate incidents.

Sen. Ben Ray Lujan (D-N.M.) said Noem “should step down,” adding: “This is ridiculous. And she continues to lie about this incident. This is wrong.”

Lujan urged his Republican colleagues to support Democrats in asking for “a full investigation.”

“This is bad. This is precedent-setting,” Lujan told MSNBC. “And I certainly hope that the leadership of the Senate, my Republican leaders, my friends, that they just look within. Pray on it. That’s what I told a couple of them last night. Pray on this and do the right thing.”

Members of the Congressional Hispanic Caucus went to Speaker Mike Johnson’s office to protest Padilla’s treatment.

Sen. Cory Booker (D-N.J.) spoke out on X and on the floor of the Senate. He said the episode fit into “a pattern of behavior by the Trump administration. There is simply no justification for this abuse of authority …. There can be no justification of seeing a senator forced to their knees.”

Rep. Joaquin Castro (D-Texas) went on X to repeat the call for an investigation and to say that “Republican leadership is complicit in enabling the growing authoritarianism in this country.”

Speaking publicly only one Republican lawmaker sounded a note of distress about the episode.

“I’ve seen that one clip. It’s horrible,” said Sen. Lisa Murkowski (R-Alaska). ”It is shocking at every level. It’s not the America I know.”

But most Republicans remained silent, or accused Padilla of being a provocateur.

“I think the senator’s actions, my view is, it was wildly inappropriate,” said Johnson, the House speaker. “You don’t charge a sitting Cabinet secretary.”

Johnson added that it was Padilla, who should face some sanction. “At a minimum … [it] rises to the level of a censure. … I think there needs to be a message sent by the body as a whole that that is not what we are going to do, that’s not how we’re going to act.”

Rep. Tom McClintock, (R-Elk Grove) zinged Padilla on X, with some “helpful tips.” “1. Don’t disrupt other people’s press conferences. Hold your own instead. 2. Don’t bum-rush a podium with no visible identification. … 3. Don’t resist or assault the Secret Service. It won’t end well.”

Rep. Jay Obernolte (R-Big Bear Lake) also sought to reinforce the notion that agents protecting Noem sensed a real threat, having no way of knowing that Padilla was who he said he was.

The congressman said on Fox Business that Padilla had obtained “the outcome that they wanted. Now they have a talking point.”

None of the officials in the room, several of whom know Padilla, intervened to prevent the action by the agents, who eventually pushed the senator, face down, onto the ground, before handcuffing him.

Noem did not back off her earlier statement that Padilla had “burst” into the room.

“Senator Padilla chose disrespectful political theatre and interrupted a live press conference without identifying himself or having his Senate security pin on as he lunged toward Secretary Noem,” Tricia McLaughlin, an assistant Homeland Security secretary, said in a statement Friday.

McLaughlin also said that Padilla “was told repeatedly to back away and did not comply with officers’ repeated commands,” though video made public by Friday did not show such warnings, in advance of Padilla’s first statement.

The senator’s staff members said he privately had received messages of concern from several Republican colleagues, including Sen. Tim Sheehy (R-Mont.)

Padilla told Tommy Vietor of the “Pod Save America” podcast that Trump’s aggressive immigration crackdown is an attempt to distract from many other failures — continued instability with the economy, a lack of peace in Ukraine and Gaza and a federal budget plan that is proving unpopular with many Americans.

“He always finds a distraction,” Padilla said, “and, when all else fails, he goes back to demonizing and scapegoating immigrants. … He creates a crisis to get us all talking about something else.”

Padilla said repeatedly that Americans should be concerned about how everyday citizens will be treated, if forces working for the Trump administration are allowed to “tackle” a U.S. senator asking questions in a public building.

On Friday afternoon, he sent a mass email urging his constituents to sign up for the protests planned for Saturday, to counter the military parade Trump is holding in Washington. “PLEASE show up and speak out against what is happening,” Padilla wrote. “We cannot allow the Trump administration to intimidate us into silence.”

Known for sweeping black-and-white photography that captured the natural world and marginalised communities, Brazilian photographer Sebastiao Salgado has passed away at age 81.

His death was confirmed on Friday by the nonprofit he and his wife Lelia Deluiz Wanick Salgado founded, the Instituto Terra.

“It is with deep sorrow that we announce the passing of Sebastiao Salgado, our founder, mentor and eternal source of inspiration,” the institute wrote in a statement.

“Sebastiao was much more than one of the greatest photographers of our time. Alongside his life partner, Lelia Deluiz Wanick Salgado, he sowed hope where there was devastation and brought to life the belief that environmental restoration is also a profound act of love for humanity.

“His lens revealed the world and its contradictions; his life, the power of transformative action.”

Salgado’s upbringing would prove to be the inspiration for some of his work. Born in 1944 in the Brazilian state of Minas Gerais, he saw one of the world’s most biodiverse ecosystems, the Atlantic Forest, recede from the land he grew up on, as the result of development.

He and his wife spent part of the last decades of their life working to restore the forest and protect it from further threats.

But Salgado was best known for his epic photography, which captured the exploitation of both the environment and people. His pictures were marked by their depth and texture, each black-and-white frame a multilayered world of tension and struggle.

In one recent photography collection, entitled Exodus, he portrayed populations across the world taking on migrations big and small. One shot showed a crowded boat packed with migrants and asylum seekers crossing the Mediterranean Sea. Another showed refugees in Zaire balancing buckets and jugs above their heads, as they trekked to retrieve water for their camp.

Salgado himself was no stranger to fleeing hardship. A trained economist, he and his wife left Brazil in 1969, near the start of a nearly two-decade-long military dictatorship.

By 1973, he had begun to dedicate himself to photography full time. After working several years with France-based photography agencies, he joined the cooperative Magnum Photos, where he would become one of its most celebrated artists.

His work would draw him back to Brazil in the late 1980s, where he would embark on one of his most famous projects: photographing the backbreaking conditions at the Serra Pelada gold mine, near the mouth of the Amazon River.

Through his lens, global audiences saw thousands of men climbing rickety wooden ladders out of the crater they were carving. Sweat made their clothes cling to their skin. Heavy bundles were slung over their backs. And the mountainside around them was jagged with the ridges they had chipped away at.

“He had shot the story in his own time, spending his own money,” his agent Neil Burgess wrote in the British Journal of Photography.

Burgess explained that Salgado “spent around four weeks living and working alongside the mass of humanity that had flooded in, hoping to strike it rich” at the gold mine.

“Salgado had used a complex palette of techniques and approaches: landscape, portraiture, still life, decisive moments and general views,” Burgess said in his essay.

“He had captured images in the midst of violence and danger, and others at sensitive moments of quiet and reflection. It was a romantic, narrative work that engaged with its immediacy, but had not a drop of sentimentality. It was astonishing, an epic poem in photographic form.”

When photos from the series were published in The Sunday Times Magazine, Burgess said the reaction was so great that his phone would not stop ringing.

Critics, however, accused Salgado during his career of glamourising poverty, with some calling his style an “aesthetic of misery”.

But Salgado pushed back on that assessment in a 2024 interview with The Guardian. “Why should the poor world be uglier than the rich world? The light here is the same as there. The dignity here is the same as there.”

In 2014, one of his sons, Juliano Ribeiro Salgado, partnered with the German filmmaker Wim Wenders to film a documentary about Salgado’s life, called The Salt of the Earth.

One of his last major photography collections was Amazonia, which captured the Amazon rainforest and its people. While some viewers criticised his depiction of Indigenous peoples in the series, Salgado defended his work as a vision of the region’s vitality.

“To show this pristine place, I photograph Amazonia alive, not the dead Amazonia,” he told The Guardian in 2021, after the collection’s release.

As news of Salgado’s death spread on Friday, artists and public figures offered their remembrances of the photographer and his work. Among the mourners was Luis Inacio Lula da Silva, Brazil’s president, who offered a tribute on social media.

“His discontent with the fact that the world is so unequal and his obstinate talent in portraying the reality of the oppressed always served as a wake-up call for the conscience of all humanity,” Lula wrote.

“Salgado did not only use his eyes and his camera to portray people: He also used the fullness of his soul and his heart. For this very reason, his work will continue to be a cry for solidarity. And a reminder that we are all equal in our diversity.”