'Problemista' Captures the Absurdity of the Immigrant Experience in the U.S.

by Agueda Pacheco Flores

There's a scene in the movie Problemista when the narrator explains the work visa immigration process in the U.S. When an employer stops sponsoring a worker, that person has a limited amount of time to find a new sponsor before getting deported. In the film, when their time runs out, that person simply fades away wherever they are, doing whatever they may be doing. Everything they were working toward is instantly taken away from them, or, rather, they are taken away from their dreams.

For Alejandro, this is the problem.

Played by Problemista's writer, director, and producer Julio Torres — best known for his writing on SNL and creating the prematurely canceled TV show Los Espookys — Alejandro is a soft-spoken, mildly awkward, Salvadoran immigrant in New York with dreams of becoming a toy designer for Hasbro. Early in the film, we see his mother build him his own haven — a castle deep in the jungle — only to be thrown into modern-day New York City far away from her ability to care for him and shelter him. These elements of magical realism follow Alejandro to the city, where they help illustrate the beauty and horrors of everyday struggles for the pursuit of happiness.

Despite being rejected by the Hasbro toy-design program from the get-go, Alejandro is undeterred. If you don't want to read spoilers, I'd suggest you stop here.

Alejandro spends his time jotting down eccentric toy ideas (like a pop-out snake that apologizes for scaring the toy user) while working at a cryosleep facility, where he maintains the room of Bobby, an artist who froze himself hoping to wake up in the future, when his illness might be treatable.

Bobby is just as whimsical as Alejandro. Before freezing himself (a gamble, given that the company is working on figuring out how to someday wake up its clients), he exclusively painted images of plain eggs — some with satin backdrops, others seductively peeking out from behind curtains, and even some abstract eggs. At one point, Bobby says, "No one understands my eggs."

Unfortunately, Alejandro is let go from the cryosleep facility, and thus begins his countdown to deportation and, with it, the end of his hoped-for career in toy design. His saving grace comes in the form of Elizabeth, an art critic and Bobby's wife, who enlists Alejandro as her assistant. She's on a mission to get Bobby's eggs understood and sold through a solo gallery show.

It's not just Bobby's eggs that are misunderstood; so, too, is Alejandro. Problemista is as much about the immigrant experience as it is about the artistic struggle and how those two are compounded. Alejandro wrestles with his own wants and needs while balancing those of others. Always attempting to be of service while putting himself last, all in the hope of eventually being sponsored by Elizabeth.

Elizabeth, played by Tilda Swinton, is a Hydra, both literally and figuratively. If a character were ever to be called a Karen, it would be Elizabeth. She is unnervingly confrontational and belligerent, and always the victim. She has little to no self-awareness and never takes no for an answer. At first glance, she is nothing like Alejandro, but still he is drawn toward her — even empathetic. What they lack in complementary personalities, however, they share in determination. Alejandro may not be aggressive, but he knows what it's like to want something as badly as Elizabeth wants that solo show for Bobby.

Alejandro briefly shares responsibilities with a posh nepobaby called Bingham. Here, we see the contrast between the hustle-driven Alejandro and the privileged, likable, charming Bingham. It's not just class that divides them and sets a contrast, but also the way Bingham talks about Elizabeth behind her back to Alejandro, who goes to bat for her without hesitation.

Despite the magical realism of Problemista, I found it more relatable than other modern drama comedies. There's nothing more real than calling the bank to ask about your negative balance only to get overdraft fees explained to you as though you were 5. Alejandro accurately calls this out for what it is — punishing people already on the margins.

Later on, we see Craigslist personified as a virtual being in a pile of digital trash attempting to convince Alejandro to take any gig he can get, which he does. The exploitative nature of these gigs does not go unaddressed. Even when it comes to Elizabeth, who overworks Alejandro, and whose behavior toward him borders on abuse, and who falls short of her promises.

Despite every obstacle he faces and the lengths he goes to to stay afloat, Alejandro never gives up on Hasbro. In the end, he takes some lessons away from working with Elizabeth and channels his inner white woman to get the gig and the future he was destined for.

To really understand Alejandro, catch a screening of Problemista. The film is currently playing at Northwest Film Forum and Ark Lodge Cinema.

Featured Image: Julio Torres as Alejandro, an immigrant from El Salvador with dreams of working for the Hasbro toy company, in "Problemista." (Photo courtesy of A24.)