Writer and Director: Ian de la Rosa
This gentle romance set amongst tomato packers in Southern Spain features two stellar performances by its leads, Silver Chicón and Herminia Loh Moreno. When Hadoum is knocked down by a forklift truck on her first day of work, she locks eyes with Iván, a forklift driver (not the guilty one). They are both outsiders in the close-knit community: She is of Moroccan descent, while he is a trans man. However, it is her ‘difference’ that proves to get in the way of true love.
The evening of the accident, Iván and Hadoum have another meet-cute, and just as dramatic. At the local karaoke bar, they are both verbally abused by the barman. He calls Hadoum “a Moroccan” and Iván “a hybrid”. After a fight, they are both ejected from the bar and end up making out on the nearby beach.
Hadoum is already aware of Iván’s gender reassignment surgery, so Ian de la Rosa’s film isn’t predicated on secrets and reveals. Hadoum, a local to the village but often away fulfilling some wanderlust, accepts Iván for who he is. Indeed, apart from the barman, everyone takes Iván’s newish identity in their stride. No one struggles with pronouns; no one deadnames him. The boss of the tomato factory tells Iván that he is just like his father; Ivan’s nephew appears to know Iván only as “Uncle”. Living with his mother, sister, nephew and niece, Iván is “el hombre de casa”.
But this means he has responsibilities, and the pressure is on him to obtain a promotion at work to warehouse manager in order that the bank will give him a mortgage. At the moment, his family are squashed in a small flat where Iván shares a room with his niece. The family wants a four-bedroom apartment with views over the tomato fields and polytunnels,
Iván is promoted to line manager without much drama, as his boss is a friend of the family. However, this means that he is now Hadoum’s supervisor, chivvying her and her colleagues to pack the tomatoes more quickly. Despite their professionalism at work, their families start to realise that the two are in a relationship of sorts. Iván suspects that his transness will be the obstacle to happiness, but racism runs deeper in the community than transphobia, especially when Hadoum calls for better rights at work.
de la Rosa is not afraid to show the sexual nature of Iván and Hadoum’s affair, and in one scene we see Hadoum kissing Iván’s top surgery scars. It is filmed in an intimate but unsensational way, clearly showing the burgeoning affection that the two have for each other. Despite his need to earn more money, Chicón’s Iván is unambitious, quite happy to spend the rest of his years in the greenhouses. Perhaps the hardest struggle – to transition – is already behind him, and now he is content to remain and look after his family. He doesn’t resent his duties, and has a smile that lights up a room.
In contrast, Moreno’s Hadoum rarely smiles and has a greater sense of how the world works and what lies outside the community in which she is only grudgingly accepted. Nevertheless, Iván is drawn to her sense of freedom, a freedom which, because of familial ties and emotional debts, he has never dreamt of. But the outside world creeps in anyway when foreign corporations with modern technology seek to take over the packing company.
This quiet and understated film demonstrates that rural life is occasionally more enlightened than we presume when it comes to human rights – trans issues, at least. However, Iván & Hadoum suggests that escape from rural life is a human right as well.
Iván & Hadoum is screening at the BFI London Film Festival 2026 from 7-18 October.
