'American Sons': A Love Story Told Through the Lens of Cpl. JV Villareal
By Arya Desai
American Sons film still. JV Villarreal's Marine Brothers and mother hold the US and Marine Flag by his grave during his 10 Year Memorial at San Fernando Cemetery in San Antonio, TX. From L-R, Angel Rios, Raymond Horn, Gorge Serna, Yolanda Villarreal, Carlos Borbolla, Nick Fry. Credit: American Sons.
The media has a problem with the way it approaches the soldier’s story.
When we think of war, we are taught to think large-scale and in terms of tragedy. It is no surprise then that Hollywood and the media follow suit. Documentaries, narratives, broadcasts, and other forms of multimedia often center on stories of fighting in real-time, highlighting the calamities of war, the destruction, deaths, and shocking statistics.
There is no shortage of war coverage in the media, from grainy videos of war-torn scenes on our nightly news broadcasts to the infographics we swipe through while mindlessly scrolling through stories on social media.
At the end of the day, those who view combat through the screen rarely grasp what it is like to serve, let alone understand the gravity of its impact on soldiers who return home.
This is something the American Sons team set out to change. The documentary, which recently premiered at the SXSW festival and won the Audience Award for Best Documentary Feature at the Houston Latino Film Festival, does something entirely new: it allows the audience to see firsthand footage of the Afghanistan War through the lens of the late Corporal JV Villareal.
This personal footage is an intimate account that honors the time that JV and his fellow brothers served in Afghanistan. An account that, for the first time, shows the life, humanity, and joy that existed between the Troop members despite the hostile environment.
A Sister’s Dedication
Yolanda Villarreal, JV Villarreal's mother, sits on her couch holding a bear with an outfit made of JV's uniform, gifted to her by Gold Star Moms. Credit Laura Varela, Producer, American Sons.
When Cpl. Villareal was killed in action while serving in Afghanistan, the loss changed his family forever.
Echoes of this grief exist in every corner of the Villareal family house, but it is clear JV’s memory lives on—from the childhood photos in the family album, to the teddy bear clad in JV’s army uniform that his mother, Yolanada, holds close to her heart.
However, JV’s memory is most preserved in the home videos he filmed while serving in Afghanistan. These same videos served as the inspiration for what would become American Sons.
When April, JV’s older sister, first received the videos from his fellow Troop members, she was overwhelmed with what to do. It took April six years before she met the filmmaking team and decided to move forward with fulfilling JV’s intention of turning his videos into a documentary.
Just like JV, “Laura gave that same vibe of being unapologetically who she was,” says April about Laura Varela, the film’s Producer.
Similarly, Andrew James Gonzalez, the Film’s director, helped solidify April’s vision for the documentary: “Andrew’s vision was something I never saw before.”
Along with the filmmaking team, April’s personal connection to JV allowed them to connect with the marine community in a way that is rarely possible.
“They don’t just talk to anybody, the Marines,” Laura says.
Andrew echoes this: “We didn’t know what would happen without April being that element to bring them together…they had such a strong desire to give the legacy to JV.”
A Surrogate Family
Film Still. Nick Fry, Angel Rios, Raimen Horn, Gorge Serna, and Yolanda Villarreal at the San Fernando Cemetery for JV’s 10th Memorial Anniversary. Credit: American Sons.
Throughout the film, JV’s homemade documentary footage chronicles not only his experience serving abroad, but also those of his fellow Marines. Or, rather, his fellow brothers, as they are described by the American Sons team.
“It became about the family. Those surrogate sons who developed,” explains Andrew, going on to add, “we knew there was much more that was going on with his brothers.”
“We knew the story we wanted to tell was JV woven into these guys getting better,” echoes Laura.
That’s exactly what the film does. Clips of JV and his friends flash across the screen in non-chronological order: laughing on the plane, setting up their cots, poking fun at each other.
A boyish innocence and playfulness contrast, often heartbreakingly, with the more sober reality of their current-day selves. Each was touched not only by the struggles of losing their friend, but to the pace of normal civilian life.
Two of JV’s closest friends, Ty Klinman and Angel Rios, become familiar faces throughout the narrative, although their stories take contrasting directions as they deal with the effects of PTSD. Angel chooses to invest himself in social and community events, while Ty opts for prescribed medical treatments.
By the end of the film, it is clear the effects of Ty’s medical aid have taken their toll; something the filmmakers point out as an example of the failures of the healthcare system: “The film exposes not only the brutality of war, but also the consequences of the U.S. military’s over-reliance on prescription medication to address post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD)...the film creates a compelling critique of the way our systems respond to veteran mental health.”
However, despite varying journeys after returning home, Angel, Ty, and the rest of the brothers keep tabs on one another through family visits, FaceTime calls, and the occasional event.
It is clear through the film that their connection is most effective at alleviating the issues each faces after returning home.
“We saw how important that was for them to be together, that they needed to catch up,” remarks Laura.
Even April, who knew JV’s friendships were special, was moved by the strength of their bond while shooting the film, “I didn’t understand what brotherhood looked like outside of a family environment…it was amazing to see the brotherhood built through this film.”
A Fighting Dog Moves in with the Brady Bunch
Film Still. Andrew St. Cyr and Ty Klinman’s first hug as they reunite after 10 years. Credit: American Sons.
One of the most important parts of the film is its message about the treatment and experience of service members who return home.
Few put the tough transition better than Corporal Billy Branch, one of JV’s fellow Troop members: “It’s like taking a fighting dog and moving it in with the Brady Bunch family…”
This is indeed the case for Ty, who complains of his lack of drive working for his family’s restaurant at home. It isn’t long before he tells the team he is ready to go back to the military. That he isn’t scared of combat.
Other members of the Troop discuss their struggles with partying, substance abuse, and self-harm in the wake of their return. But for those who struggle with PTSD and grief, it is challenging not to resort to such extremes after emerging from the high-stakes life of a Marine.
“You’re coming back from combat at eleven, and they come back and put themselves in these dangerous situations,” Andrew adds.
For members of JV’s Troop, this is especially the case, since their Unit was stationed in a particularly hostile zone of Afghanistan. This is made clear in one of JV’s home videos: an eerie shot of him in a large tank on patrol, ready for combat at any moment.
“They were literally on the front lines,” says Fernando Cano, one of the film’s producers.
The filmmakers effectively use this nonchronological narrative and structure to illustrate the contrast between the men’s time in Afghanistan and experience back home, postwar: “Visually, the film oscillates between the stark, violent immediacy of combat footage and the quiet moments of reflection in kitchens, cemeteries, and church pews.”
It is in these quiet moments that the men are seemingly able to let their guard down, to be around someone who understands their unique experience, and to relax the “fighter dog” within.
One of the strongest examples of this is in an exchange between Ty and one of his peers, Sergeant Andrew. Their meaningful embrace is a significant and moving moment in the film—one that was so special it was chosen by the filmmakers as a shot for early fundraising efforts.
Unfortunately, these brief moments of camaraderie are not enough for some struggling veterans.
In the film, an annual Memorial Day reunion for the Troop includes a small shrine with the faces of many beloved soldiers, a sober reminder of the all-too-common presence of suicide in the veteran community.
“We want those numbers to be shocking…we didn’t realize how large those numbers were,” Varela says about the team’s research into suicide statistics.
A Love Story
U.S. Marine Corps Cpl. Jorge Villarreal, a motor transportation mechanic with India Battery, 3rd Battalion, 12th Marine Regiment, Regimental Combat Team 2, displays a U.S. flag atop the wall of a compound Sept. 29, 2010, in Kajaki district, Helmand province, Afghanistan. Villarreal bought the flag after arriving in Afghanistan and carried it on every patrol. Credit: (U.S. Marine Corps photo by Cpl. Daniel Blatter/Released)
Memorial Day is more than hot dogs…what we’re here for, other people fought for,” April reminds the audience.
She adds, “No matter what background they came from, they were extremely proud to serve, to be there during that time frame… we have to honor them.”
And honor them, they have. Through the eyes of JV and his Troop, American Sons gives an unfiltered and honest look into the soldiers’ experience without sensationalizing their stories.
This is something the documentary overview makes a point to mention: “By illuminating the faces and voices behind the uniforms—especially those that have historically been left out of the frame—the film not only humanizes the cost of war but also honors the courage it takes to heal.”
“We were just trying to reveal the truth. To film and let them be themselves,” Andrew explains.
In the end, American Sons is a story about a man’s love for his family, his family’s love for him, and the love that still exists after he has left them.
In the words of Laura: “It's a love story.”
JV smiles at the camera for a brief moment in one of the last clips of the film, arms outstretched as he gestures to the beautiful sunset over his remote camp in Afghanistan. One day he will show this to them, he says.
With the help of the filmmaking team and his sister, JV has kept his word.
