‘I Am Ready, Warden’ Subject on “Strange Feeling” of Celebrating an Oscar Nom for a Film About a Tragedy (Guest Column)

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On January 23rd, I stirred from a mere two hours of sleep following a night shift, only to be greeted by some earth-shattering news: “I Am Ready, Warden,” the documentary chronicling my journey of coping with and ultimately forgiving my father’s killer, had been nominated for an Academy Award. As a gamer, I could hardly believe it – it felt like I’d just leveled up to a new life stage!

Soon enough, my phone became an endless barrage of calls from journalists, curious about my thoughts on attending the Oscars. Frankly, it’s a peculiar sensation to revel in something born from my own private catastrophe. However, every aspect of my journey with the documentary has been an unexpected turn of events.

The conversation began through a private message on social media, when director Smriti Mundhra contacted me to share that she was producing a film about John Henry Ramirez, the man who fatally stabbed my father, Pablo Castro, 29 times in a Corpus Christi parking lot in 2004. I’ve often received such messages from journalists and movie makers, which I usually dismiss. This time, I wasn’t inclined towards another film that might portray the death penalty issue biasedly, glorifying my father’s killer while painting me as an uncaring avenger seeking justice.

1. It was something that drove me to engage in conversation with Smriti, who would later turn out to be a crucial figure in my life.

2. After initially turning down Smriti’s invitation to contribute to her documentary, I eventually agreed after several months had passed, as she took the time to understand me as an individual before delving into my personal experiences of coping with my father’s murder and its consequences. I permitted the cameras to capture intimate moments during one of the most emotionally fragile periods in my life, hoping for justice through the execution of my father’s murderer. However, unexpectedly, I experienced a change of heart that I hadn’t foreseen.

3. Filming concluded in late 2022, and Smriti and I remained connected, but I didn’t see the finished film until 18 months later. Smriti was by my side as I watched, and she supported me as I grappled with my emotions towards the film during a seemingly endless stretch of silence. I was amazed by what the film managed to capture: raw emotions etched across my face that I wasn’t consciously aware of experiencing, and moments of stillness that spoke volumes. The painful events of my past were approached with sensitivity, and years of emotional wounds healed, through the unanticipated power of documentary, enabling me to hear an apology from my father’s murderer.

4. Smriti achieved this authentic portrayal without resorting to manipulation through editing, music, or special effects. Instead, she listened attentively and allowed events to unfold naturally, even within the limited runtime of the documentary.

Smriti achieved something remarkable that’s taken me some time to fully grasp: She systematically arranged my chronology of events, feelings, suffering, and thoughts in a manner that made them crystal clear, even to myself. When traumatic experiences overwhelm your mind, it becomes challenging to dissect or articulate your emotions, particularly when asked to explain how an event impacted your life. She facilitated my understanding that I could take pride in my journey, and that all the years spent recounting my father’s murder led me to someone who genuinely empathized and shared our story with due respect.

Whenever my phone buzzes with a call from journalists inquiring about my emotions regarding being involved in a movie up for an Oscar, I respond with unadulterated pride. Whether one is a film director, an actor, or even a manager at a convenience store like my father once was, or simply someone grappling with their feelings like myself, contributing to narratives that shape the world is not just a privilege but a blessing. And as I’m acutely aware of time’s fleeting nature and the uncertainty of tomorrow, there’s no delay in appreciating every moment we have today.

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2025-02-13 03:24