FEATURE | WHAKAKĀINGA / HOME
Written by Melissa Jimenez Najera (she/her) | LinkedIn | CONTRIBUTING WRITER
As an expat, my sense of home has changed over the years, but films have remained a constant anchor to everything I love.
Movies have shaped my choices, offering both a sanctuary and a home within my mind—one I can return to no matter where I am. They connect me to distant loved ones, my younger self, and cherished memories. In many ways, cinema has been both a refuge from reality and a guide for the future.
My journey abroad has not been without its challenges. There were times when anxiety crept in unexpectedly, leaving me feeling isolated and overwhelmed. During these moments, I found solace in Pixar's simple yet profound storytelling. Rewatching Coco and singing along transported me back to Mexico, easing my loneliness in a foreign land. Discovering a Te Reo Māori version deepened my appreciation, a beautiful reminder that cultures as diverse as New Zealand’s and Mexico’s share common values. It reinforced the idea that film is a universal language of belonging—anchoring us to our roots and connecting us to others through shared emotions and experiences.
Beyond serving as a personal sanctuary, films have also bonded me to loved ones across distances. When I’m separated from friends and family, we find ways to stay connected through film. A synchronised video call, where we hit play at the same time, brings us together across distances. Even sharing a cherished scene from decades past can revive those bonds in an intimate, almost magical way. These shared moments evoke laughter and nostalgia but also remind us that, even when apart, we are united by the stories we created and shared. The power of film extends beyond nostalgia, strengthening relationships and keeping the essence of home alive despite physical distance.
One of my most memorable adventures was my first solo trip to Europe, inspired by my obsession with Before Sunset. The film led me on a midnight movie location hunt through the rainy streets of Paris. Somehow, I rallied a group of hostel strangers, and together, we created our own mini cinematic journey—dancing in an underground club, sharing a spontaneous picnic, and watching the Eiffel Tower light up against the night sky. This unforgettable experience now lives alongside the memories of Jesse and Celine, revisited each year with the rewatching of the film. It was a reminder that films can inspire action, turning dreams into tangible experiences.
There is no question that films shape our identities and reveal the many facets of “home.” For some, home is a tangible place—Tokyo for those captivated by Lost in Translation. For others, it is found in the quiet intimacy between two characters, as in the refuge Ennis and Jack create in Brokeback Mountain. Movies wear many hats: they entertain, bring people together, and, for many, act as a form of therapy. I often recall Alejandro González Iñárritu’s words: “Cinema is a mirror by which we often see ourselves”. Each character, scene, and emotion reflects a part of our journey, affirming the transformations that define us. Just as films help us see ourselves, they also illuminate the ever-changing nature of home, reminding us that belonging is as much about the stories we embrace as the places we inhabit.
As I continue to explore different stories and perspectives through films, I add new layers to my understanding of home. Each movie experience contributes to an ongoing evolution in how I define my place in the world, constantly reshaping both who I am and where I belong.
After watching The Lord of the Rings trilogy as a child, I felt an inexplicable pull towards New Zealand—a place I longed to call home. Now, after two and a half years here, enduring endless visa processes and navigating life without even a car, I have yet to experience the serene comfort of a hobbit’s life or the thrill of riding a white horse across sprawling plains. Nonetheless, I carry countless memories of a personal journey that would have remained unwritten had I not taken to heart Gandalf’s advice: “The only thing we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us”. Every part of a film, even the simplest piece of dialogue, can encourage us to embrace the unknown, propelling us forward in ways we may never expect.
The bond between home and cinema remains a constant part of who I am, shaping not only where I belong but also who I become. Rewatching one of my late grandmother’s favourite films, Under the Tuscan Sun, transported me back to when I’d confide in her about my dream of escaping to the countryside, learning to cook, and building a romantic home just like Frances. Just as Before Sunset led me through the streets of Paris and Coco reconnected me to my roots, this film, too, serves as both a tribute to my past and an invitation to new possibilities. Each film leaves a distinctive mark, guiding me toward my next adventure. And so, it gently urges me to book those Italian lessons, step boldly into the unknown, and continue shaping my ever-evolving sense of home.
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