Interview: Sarah Schoellkopf on Norita and the Power of Activism
Producer Sarah Schoellkopf joins me to discuss Norita, a deeply personal documentary about Nora “Norita” Cortiñas, a founding member of the Mothers of Plaza de Mayo.
The film combines archival footage, animation, and intimate interviews to explore love, grief, and the strength to speak truth to power.
In this conversation, Sarah shares how her friendship with Norita inspired the film, how animation brings memory to life, and why Norita feels more relevant than ever.
Watch the Interview
Listen to the Interview
Where to Watch Norita
Visit noritafilm.com for festival updates and screenings.
Read the Full Transcript
The following transcript has been edited for clarity, readability, and length while preserving the original intent of the conversation.
Austin: Hi everyone, I’m Austin Belzer from Austin B Media. Welcome to my interview with Sarah Schoellkopf, one of the producers behind Norita, a moving and deeply personal documentary about Argentine human rights icon Nora “Norita” Cortiñas, a founding member of the Mothers of Plaza de Mayo. Through archival footage and intimate interviews, Norita traces her lifelong pursuit of justice for her son and for the thousands who disappeared under Argentina’s military dictatorship. It’s a film about love, grief, and the power of speaking truth to power. Sarah, it’s a privilege to have you here.
Sarah: Thank you so much. It’s wonderful to be here with you, Austin.
Austin: Thank you. First things first, you’ve spent a lot of your career advocating for social justice and human rights. What drew you personally to Norita’s story, and how did you know this was a film you wanted to help bring into the world?
Sarah: I knew Norita, Nora Cortiñas, the protagonist, for nearly three decades. I originally had an internship with her organization when I was in college at the University of Buenos Aires. I was doing a study abroad program and had the opportunity to intern with the Mothers of Plaza de Mayo. That’s where I met Nora. Later, I returned to Buenos Aires and worked with the Mothers and other human rights groups on grants, including a Fulbright grant.
She was not only an academic subject for me but became family. Her organization was deeply important to me, and many of the Mothers were dear, dear people in my life. Sadly, many of them have passed because it has been almost fifty years since the dictatorship and the disappearances. That’s how I got involved. She let me know that this film was happening, and I wanted to help in any way I could. Little by little, or as we say poco a poco, I became the lead producer.
Austin: I was actually going to ask about that transition because that’s not a small shift. You said something earlier that stood out to me: “documentary teaching.” I just finished watching Norita about twenty minutes ago, and that phrase really stuck with me. I’d love to hear what you meant by that.
Sarah: Yes, I love alliterations. I went from professor to producer, and I see what I do now as a kind of teaching through documentaries. I taught Spanish language and literature for many years, and film was always a major part of my classroom. Film is an incredible way to teach both language and culture.
I actually learned more Portuguese by watching Brazilian films in grad school than I did in some of my coursework. After COVID, I noticed how much more visual students have become. Their attention spans are shorter, but they engage more deeply when they see something on screen.
Now, when I visit universities and high schools to show Norita, I see that engagement firsthand. You can present a one-hour documentary and immediately open conversations about culture, politics, and history. It’s so much more dynamic than a lecture. I truly feel like I’m continuing my teaching even though I’m no longer in the classroom.
Austin: That really connects to something I noticed in the film. A lot of documentaries front-load what I call the “trailer moment,” where the first five minutes are just designed to hook viewers with flashy edits. But Norita doesn’t do that.
Sarah: Exactly. We didn’t want to open with a montage or something that felt like a trailer. Nora’s story doesn’t need that. Her life and her words are powerful enough on their own.
Austin: It makes a difference. That choice lets the story breathe. It feels like we’re being welcomed into her life rather than being told what to feel about it.
Sarah: Yes, that’s exactly the intention. We wanted the film to be experiential, not performative. The viewer enters Nora’s world and learns from her naturally, just as I did.
Austin: Another thing that really stood out to me in Norita is how the film uses animation. That’s something we’ve seen in a few documentaries, but it’s often used sparingly. Here, it feels intentional and emotional. How did you and the team decide to approach it that way?
Sarah: Andrea Tortorese, who was our art and animation director, is multi-talented. She, along with our directors Francisco Villa and Jason McNamara, started filming Nora around 2017. When I joined the team in 2018, some of the animation work had already begun.
Because of COVID, production paused for a while, and we had time to really think about how to use animation more meaningfully. When we did early screenings in Buenos Aires in April 2023 and later in Los Angeles that November, the feedback was unanimous. Everyone said, “This animation is amazing. You need more of it.”
It allowed us to capture moments that couldn’t be shown through reenactments. For example, Nora going to the detention center in her neighborhood to look for her son. I’ve heard that story so many times, but seeing it through animation made it even more powerful. The ravens, the visual metaphors. It all felt true to her spirit. And with Gustavo Santaolalla’s music behind it, it became art in its purest form.
Austin: That combination really worked. The animation scenes don’t pull you out of the story. They draw you in emotionally.
Sarah: That’s what we wanted. The animation was never meant to decorate the film; it was there to deepen it. It gave us a way to express memory and trauma visually without showing violence or exploiting pain.
Austin: That makes perfect sense. The film also does something else that feels rare these days. It lets people speak in their own language. Many of the interviews are in Spanish. Can you talk about that choice?
Sarah: It was very important to us. Nora Strahilevich, one of the people we interviewed, speaks fluent English and Spanish. She lived in the United States for years and even taught at California State University San Diego. But when she talked about her disappearance and her brother’s torture, she spoke in Spanish.
She told me later that she couldn’t have described that trauma in English. She said, “I could have forced myself to, but it wouldn’t have been real.” That’s something I deeply respect. Language carries memory and emotion.
I often remind my students that more than sixty million people in the United States are native Spanish speakers. This country was once part of Mexico. Honoring that heritage is vital. We’re becoming more isolated and divided, and yet Spanish is all around us. Letting these women tell their stories in their own voices is a way of honoring that truth.
Austin: That ties beautifully into something else I noticed while watching. There’s this tension between Nora’s personal story and Argentina’s broader political history. It feels like the film is balancing two threads: the human story and the historical one. How did you manage that balance?
Sarah: In Argentina, the personal is political. You can’t separate the two. Nora used to say she was completely apolitical before her son disappeared, but that’s not really possible in Argentina. The country’s history is so layered. Colonialism, immigration, dictatorship, democracy, protest movements.
Even if you’re just an average citizen, your life is shaped by politics. That’s part of the Argentine identity. When we were editing, we had long conversations about how much historical background to include. At one point, the film had a lot more of it. We realized we needed to streamline so audiences outside Argentina could follow it without feeling overwhelmed.
But you can’t tell Nora’s story without telling Argentina’s story. They’re intertwined. She is the human face of her country’s struggle for justice.
Austin: I completely agree. And it comes through so clearly in the finished film.
Sarah: Thank you. That means a lot.
Austin: One thing I didn’t even notice until my second viewing is that all the interviews in the film are with women. Was that deliberate?
Sarah: Yes, that was an intentional decision by the creative team. The Mothers of Plaza de Mayo were women who used motherhood as a form of resistance. Their power came from that shared identity. Centering women’s voices in this film was a way of honoring that.
Austin: The collaboration on this film really impressed me. You had people working in Argentina, the United States, and even Australia. How did that come together?
Sarah: It was amazing, honestly. I have to thank COVID for that, because suddenly we were all used to meeting over video calls. Our team could be in different time zones and still work closely together.
We had five main team members. Melissa Daniels was based in Los Angeles. I live in San Francisco. Andrea Tortorese and Francisco Villa were in Argentina, and Jason McNamara was in Australia. Our post-production house was in Los Angeles, and our composers were split between Argentina and LA.
It was a beautiful international collaboration that reflected the spirit of the Mothers. Their movement has always been about community and shared strength. Even though we were separated by oceans, we were united in purpose.
Austin: That’s incredible. It’s funny that you mentioned COVID, because a lot of filmmakers I’ve talked to have said similar things. It’s as if the isolation pushed everyone to find new ways to connect.
Sarah: Exactly. It forced creativity. We realized we didn’t need to be in the same room to create something meaningful. And in a way, that made the film’s message even more relevant. We were making a movie about solidarity and persistence while practicing both in real life.
Austin: Before we wrap up, I want to ask a question you’ve probably answered a hundred times, but it’s important. What do you hope audiences, especially those outside of Argentina, take away from Norita?
Sarah: I love that question. For me, Norita is both deeply Argentine and completely universal. Her story could take place anywhere. She could be a Palestinian mother searching for her child, or someone in Nazi Germany, or even a parent watching loved ones taken by ICE in the United States.
Authoritarianism is rising again around the world. This film is a reminder of how to fight back — together. When I talk to students, I describe Norita as a manual for activism. You need a community. You need persistence. You can’t do it alone. That’s what Nora understood.
She always said that returning to the Plaza every Thursday with the other Mothers gave her strength. That’s why their movement has endured for nearly fifty years. Even now, when many of the original Mothers have passed, their children and grandchildren continue the tradition.
Austin: That’s incredible. To keep something alive for that long — that’s legacy.
Sarah: It really is. It’s the oldest human rights organization in Latin America, and they still meet every Thursday at 3:30 in the afternoon in Buenos Aires. Rain or shine, they walk in the Plaza. That kind of perseverance gives me hope.
Austin: I think that’s what struck me most about Norita. It’s not just a historical film. It’s a living example of how activism can evolve and endure.
Sarah: Exactly. And that’s why I keep saying this film is a firefly in the darkness. Every time I watch it with an audience, I feel a renewed sense of purpose. It reminds me that change takes time, but it’s possible when people come together.
Austin: That’s beautiful. Sarah, thank you so much for taking the time to talk about this film and to share Norita’s story with the world. Where can people watch Norita right now?
Sarah: Thank you, Austin. Norita had its theatrical run at the Lemle Theater in Santa Monica and is currently screening at festivals. You can visit noritafilm.com for updates. We’re still working on U.S. distribution, but the film has already screened across Latin America and will continue touring. Some festivals even have online viewing options, so definitely check the website for those.
Austin: Perfect. I’ll make sure to include that link in the description of this interview.
Sarah: Thank you. And thank you for your thoughtful questions. This has been one of my favorite conversations.
Austin: That means a lot. I try to make these feel more like conversations than press junkets.
Sarah: laughs You’re doing it right, then.
Austin: Sarah, thank you again. It’s been wonderful talking to you.
Sarah: Thank you so much, Austin. Let’s keep telling these stories and making a better world.
Austin: Yes, let’s do that.
Sarah: laughs Thank you.
Austin: Thank you.
Follow Me
Bluesky Facebook Instagram Letterboxd Mastodon TikTok Threads YouTube
Support My Work
Your support makes interviews like this possible, so thank you for being part of Austin B Media! If you want to become a Patron, head to Patreon.com/AustinBMedia or AustinB.Media/support for more information.
Until next time!
