Sometimes all a documentary needs to leave a lasting impression is a force-of-nature protagonist at its center. That’s exactly what first time filmmaker Nolwenn Hervé lucked out with in “The Cord.” She found Carolina, a community organizer and a fierce advocate for women’s health in Venezuela. Only identified by her first name to protect her identity and safety within an authoritarian regime, Carolina is on a mission to ensure that the women in her community receive care during their pregnancies and while giving birth. With this courageous and daring protagonist taking the lead, “The Cord” manages to be as warm, passionate and propulsive in its mission as Carolina, a real life hero of our times. 

Because of Venezuela’s broken health system, giving birth has become life threatening. Women are not admitted to hospitals until they gather all the necessary medical equipment and medications needed on their own. This is where Carolina steps in. Driven around Maracaibo by her friend and helper Yanni, she collects what’s needed using a mix of begging, bribes and her network of people who can help. She spends most of her time in the car ferrying the women she’s helping around, from their homes to pharmacies to hospitals and back again. She negotiates with the hospital staff, calms the women with humor and optimism. She has an eye for noticing when things are off, thus protecting and counseling the women who may be abused by their partners.

Carolina is not just a do-gooder. She’s a complex woman with a past she regrets, a hectic present and hopes for a bright future. She used to be a gangster but is distressed about her previous violent life and is trying to atone for it. She has two young daughters, one of whom is pregnant while her baby’s father strives for a better life in the U.S. Her faith keeps her grounded. She is studying to become a midwife to be of even more practical help. Hervé manages to capture all these different facets of this fascinating protagonist with sensitivity and care while allowing her to be human; grace, foibles and all. 

Hervé’s compassionate camera also shows how Carolina moves around in her community. She’s always among people, mostly other women. From a makeshift hair salon that also acts as a dance studio, to a beauty contest for young girls to the numerous homes she visits, Hervé follows her with precise attention. Carolina never stops and always thinks of different ways to help –like distributing contraceptives for women who already gave birth multiple times convincing them to protect their health, or organizing a protest against the hospital where staff refused care. In between all that, there’s gossip, fun and joy in her many interactions. She’s excited about being a grandmother and her warm relationship with her daughters is given time to breathe. However, the filmmaker is not just capturing events, rather she’s capturing the essence and feelings of Carolina. 

Cinematically “The Cord” may appear to be conventional. However its use of the familiar methods of documentary, like voiceover, feels more urgent and intimate. Carolina is shown sitting alone by the lake as she recounts her previous life in voiceover. More than just telling a story, her voice cracks with warm emotion.  In scenes at home with her daughter, Herve’s camera never feels intrusive. The interplay between them flows naturally as if no camera is present. “The Cord” found an inspirational hero in Carolina. In return she gives the audience an example to emulate and aspire to be. The film and protagonist are in complete sync and bound to win hearts everywhere.