New legal battle over the film 'La ciénaga: entre el mar y la tierra'; director announces lawsuit to recover property rights

Legal issues continue to plague the Colombian film "La ciénaga: entre el mar y la tierra." After eight years of legal disputes, the film was released in the country's theaters, where it has been running for nearly two months, a feat for any national production.

An unappealable ruling by the National Copyright Directorate (DNDA) that considered filmmaker Carlos del Castillo and Manolo Cruz, actor and original author of the film's idea, as co-directors ended the battle: "As a law-abiding citizen, I abide by this ruling and officially recognize that, according to this sentence, the work has two directors: the filming director: Carlos Del Castillo and the post-production director: Manolo Cruz Urrego, general producer, executive producer, screenwriter, head of casting and star of the film," said Del Castillo, who has more than three decades of experience in film.

After the film's box office success, Manolo Cruz will face a new lawsuit, as his main investor—the film's director, Carlos del Castillo—claims that he and his crew were defrauded by the actor.

“Manolo Cruz is an extraordinary actor, especially off the set,” he commented in a conversation with EL TIEMPO. In Del Castillo's words, Cruz “duped” them, as to this day, he hasn't acknowledged “a single cent” of the investment he made as co-producer for the film; he hasn't paid his production team's salaries either, and he even “stole the production company's credit, he changed the names of others, and he simply didn't include others.”

After EL TIEMPO spoke with Manolo Cruz about the legal battle he fought to have his name included as co-director, Carlos del Castillo, the film's director, asked this newspaper for an interview to give his version.

Del Castillo, also director of El Niño de los Mandados (2018), Somos Uno (2021), La Sonrisa de Nico (2023), Un Rebelde Con Causa (2024) and Mayo (2025), among other feature films, spoke about what happened behind the scenes and about the new legal battle against Cruz.

The issue of "film direction" is a new invention that now, through a ruling by the DNDA, jeopardizes absolutely all the uses and duties of cinema as it has always been, since films have always been directed on set. Films are the result of what happens during filming. I was present at every stage of production, from the moment Cruz's idea was just a short film until the last day of shooting, and then I supervised post-production three times, as agreed upon from the beginning in my contract as director. This stage included Manolo Cruz's participation in editing as producer, but according to the DNDA ruling, this made him a "post-production director," and therefore a co-director, insofar as he accompanied all the events that occurred during that stage, which I was also present at, despite Cruz's lies, who claims I was never present either before or after filming.

It turns out that not only was I involved in pre- and post-production, contrary to what Cruz claims, but I was the person who decided that the short film's premise was interesting enough to be turned into a feature film. So much so that I not only took on the direction from day one, but also fully financed the project with my savings. There was never a consensus on co-directing, as Cruz claims, and I would never do so with someone who had no idea what a director's job was. On the contrary, I was emphatic and very precise in making it clear to Cruz, in a friendly manner, that I personally didn't believe in that position long before we even began rewriting the feature film script with Vicky Hernández, because in the art-house genre, it was, in my opinion, very risky.

Yes. When Cruz invited me to invest in his short film, he told me that Laura Mora (Escobar, One Hundred Years of Solitude, Killing Jesus), no less, would co-direct the short with him. I thought it was a great feat from Cruz, that such a director was willing to co-direct a short film with him, and even less so without a budget, since someone with her career rarely has the time to participate in a project like this, much less without payment. However, I told him: 'Man, if you convinced Laura Mora to co-direct a short film with you, and Vicky Hernández to star in it, she'll definitely want to direct the feature, and in that case, I'd invest all my savings without a doubt.' However, Manolo Cruz told me a few days later that Laura had come up with something last-minute and that she would no longer be his co-director. That's when he literally told me and Robespierre Rodríguez—our co-producer and director of photography—that he wanted me to direct the film and that, according to him, "God had sent me into his life for that to happen." At that moment, I not only agreed to direct 'La ciénaga,' but I also decided to invest what little money I had into the project, with the sole condition that it be a feature film and that there would be no co-direction. That's exactly what I did.

He says he met me on a film we made in Chile—it was called Talión, directed by Martín Tuta—because I was supposedly someone's camera assistant there. What did I do? According to Cruz, I was the cameraman's assistant or something like that, or that's what he implies, trying to belittle the camera assistant's profession. My answer is this: First, I've never had the honor of holding that position, as it's absolutely technical, requires absolute precision, and requires extensive technical knowledge and experience that I don't possess. Never in my life have I had the opportunity to hold a position other than scriptwriting, directing, cinematography, or producing everything I've done in three decades of my career. I was a co-producer of that film there, that is, as an investor, just as I have been in several films I've made in different countries, where I've been able to cooperate in one way or another with my production company. What I did do was take the camera in several scenes because the director, a great friend of mine and brother-in-law of this gentleman, a student at my university, asked me to, as he assured me he trusted my visual narrative. We made that film with his wife, Érica Cruz, the producer of that feature film and Manolo's sister. They are the owners of the production company that produced that feature film. Sadly, I was the one who brought Manolo to that film, investing my own resources, thinking that when Talión was sold in Colombia, we would have a certain commercial advantage by including him as an actor. At the time, I wasn't aware of the mistake I had made, as I had no idea who Cruz was.

Manolo Cruz says I wasn't involved in post-production either because, effectively, to hire a director to be in post-production, you have to pay an additional salary because it's a part that isn't considered part of a director's job description, especially when a film is made under conditions like these. I mean, I didn't have the money to pay myself for the time I was going to spend editing the film, which usually takes several months. But you should know that there's a fundamental aspect: directors work on the shooting of the film, which is where a film can truly be directed. You can't direct an actor or correct a staging in the pre-production stage, much less in the post-production stage. In the pre-production stage, there's still no camera, no set design, no costume elements, no decoration, no scenery, no makeup. You're not framing, you're not composing the shot, nothing is lit. You can't narrate something that doesn't yet exist, because only at the time of filming are all those elements aligned and come together at the time of shooting each shot of the film. In my case, I specialize in semiotics and semiology, so in pre-production, one plans with the art director—who in this case was Arley Garzón Gómez. We worked out what the house would be like, what colors; I did all that work with him. I worked on the script with Vicky Hernández and with Cruz as an actor in the readings. We recreated and rewrote, as is my specialty as a director, so that the story would become a feature film. Vicky had the technical and artistic knowledge and the experience to pull it off, something Manolo Cruz didn't have. He only had an idea in his head and a strong desire to be recognized as an actor, since, according to him, no one had ever given him that opportunity. I financed this film from the beginning to the last day of shooting. Director of photography and producer Robespierre Rodríguez ultimately had to contribute part of the money by going into debt on his credit card and was the person who financed the entire post-production. With him, we accepted 49% of the film despite having financed it entirely together, as Cruz pressured us to keep 51%, as he already had plans to seize the film and steal our share.

At first, I traveled to Santa Marta with the pre-production team on two occasions, using my own resources, to film the scenes in which Manolo Cruz appears robust, fat, and healthy in the character's imagination, before he began to lose weight. I documented the process as we approached the day of filming and held meetings with the entire technical and artistic team of the film, in which he introduced me as the director. At that time, he gave me my contract as the film's director, unaware that he had a plan in mind to steal everything. I signed my contract as a co-producer and investor, and this is important because the new lawsuit we're filing is precisely to recover that money and the property rights to which my contributions entitle me. It turns out that all directors in Colombia or any other country in the world are required to sign a copyright assignment agreement, which allows the producer or production company to exploit the work for the duration stipulated in the contract. It turns out he presented that contract to the judge as if I had given him the money I contributed. Solange Acosta Franco, his best friend and the film's producer at the time, explained to the judge that not only was I the director of the film, but she was also able to prove that I was the one who paid for everything by presenting all the receipts she managed to collect, which Cruz denied. And this time we surprised him, because he didn't even have money to pay for buses at the time, and I was the one who covered all his expenses to be able to move forward with the project. He boasted a lot that when he started this project, he didn't have the money to pay for a ticket, but now I hear him say that the film "cost him 1.5 billion pesos," of which I only contributed a measly 35 million, because that's all we were able to prove of the 49 million I gave him. But it doesn't say that in addition to that money, I financed the entire pre-production stage, the two previous trips to Santa Marta and Villavicencio to shoot the first scenes, four months before the initial shoot. That I put both of my cars at the service of the film, and that they even put diesel in my truck during filming instead of gasoline, and that repair ended up costing me more than 40 million pesos. I had to sell my car, and in the last days of filming, I had to pawn my motorcycle to a friend. I had to tell him: 'I need you to lend me 14 million pesos, which we're missing because we don't have the money to pay for the hotel.' It was the way we left without leaving any debt behind.

They are totally different things. But since you ask, I I mean, a director's work is absolutely precise. There's no way to direct films before they're shot. He was the screenwriter and the person who invented the story, the creator. The original idea is his. Vicky and I rewrote the entire script, from the first scene to the last; but no one had any intention of telling him to share the screenwriting credit. In reality, I should have shared my directorial credit with her and not with Manolo Cruz, since Vicky directs alone. But well, that's over now. There's a mistake. Manolo Cruz was the person who had the initial idea and created this project. He called us together and tricked a number of people who were his friends, or at least we thought we were, and to this day he hasn't returned a single cent of what we invested nor paid us a single peso from our agreements. He fooled all of us who were on the film's crew, who are the ones who really make films professionally. I'm talking about the art director, the director of photography, the producer, the cameraman, the camera assistant, the makeup designer, the sound engineer, the data manager, the lighting technician, etc., and the "filming director," and I say this ironically because that position is absolutely ridiculous in my field.

However, Manolo Cruz couldn't strip me of the "director" credit, which was always his intention, for a simple reason: it turns out there's a tool called a "clapperboard," which is nothing more and nothing less than the imprint of every take in the film, every shot, every scene. That information there is equivalent to the chassis number of a vehicle. There isn't a single clapperboard in the entire film that lists a director other than Carlos del Castillo; there isn't a single one that says we share directing credit, because, as Sergio Cabrera said in the interview with Julio Sánchez Cristo, films are directed on set and in no way off it. However, this ruling forces me to say yes, there is a "co-direction," because the gentleman was "directing" in post-production, quite literally, "directing," taking away, among other things, the real credit from the editor and the film editor, Luis Felipe Doncel and Germán Duarte. He made them both disappear, saying he was the post-production director, a position that didn't exist until this ruling appeared... He also removed credit from the film's real producer, who was his friend Solange Acosta Franco, an extraordinary producer with a long career and highly respected in the industry for a long time, and making her the "head of production."

A few days ago, someone criticized me for doing business with such a criminal. I told him: I didn't know at the time that he was a criminal. I honestly thought he was an artist who wanted a chance as an actor and who had sacrificed himself so he could put together a crew and tell a story, an idea he had for a short film. It turns out I didn't know he had a criminal record, and that he had several previous lawsuits for fraud, non-support, domestic violence, and a host of other things. Had I known, I would never have reached out to him, and I have to accept that. I should have investigated beforehand and not trusted someone just because he came around talking about God, but whose actions said the opposite. He said he had to put up with Vicky because he needed her, but that he hated her. I never understood why he said that until after everything happened and we all realized how he used her to pull off his big scam. We were outraged to see how he gave her kisses and hugs and when we turned our backs he would make hateful gestures and tell us that unfortunately he had to do it because, according to him, "we needed her" ...

Because we didn't want to further damage our film until after its release. We all waited too long because justice in Colombia is excessively slow. They've blamed me and the entire team for supposedly stopping the release of 'La ciénaga'; and it turns out it wasn't. It was Manolo Cruz who stopped the film's release, by defrauding us, lying to us, and deceiving us. It was he himself who forced us to sue him by not fulfilling what was agreed upon, what was agreed upon, and his word; that led the court to impose a precautionary measure on the film, therefore, it couldn't be shown. We all came out worse off, especially those of us who invested everything we had in it.

It wasn't me who stopped the film's release; that's a vile accusation. I've never in my life wanted to harm our film, because I've loved it from day one, because the cinema I make, I make precisely to be seen, to bring a message to the world. My cinema is a cinema of love and speaks precisely about love, so I didn't make it for a fee or for money, as Manolo Cruz arrogantly claims, claiming that he "hired me," knowing that he never put a single cent towards this and that those who financed the entire film were Robespierre, who not only provided his equipment but also his staff, his company, and his money, and me. It was Cruz who swindled us all: me into financing and directing his idea and the rest of his friends into participating without paying us a single peso for our work. The entire crew is a witness to everything that happened. I wish the people in my industry would take the time to ask everyone who participated, aside from us, and who appears in the credits, about everything I'm telling this media, so we can prevent someone like Manolo Cruz from stealing their work, their money, and their experience like he did to us.