Roberto Girault

Roberto Girault, born smack in the middle of Mexico City back in '76, has been quietly shaking up Mexican cinema in his own way. You wanna talk about a guy with range? He’s not just a writer or a producer—he’s the kind of creative who actually gives a damn about telling stories with a soul. Take “Los árboles mueren de pie” for example. That film isn’t just some random drama; it digs deep into family, secrets, and the things people do to protect each other, even when it’s messy. It’s not afraid to get a little sentimental, but there’s this undercurrent of raw honesty that keeps it from going full soap opera. Then there’s “El Estudiante,” probably the movie he’s best known for. That one’s got this warm, nostalgic vibe but also comes swinging with questions about youth, age, and what it means to chase your dreams when the world thinks you’re past your prime. It’s the sort of film that sneaks up on you—one minute you’re laughing, the next you’re all choked up and wondering why the heck you’re getting emotional about an old guy in college. And don't even get me started on “La Leyenda Del Diamante.” Girault steps into animation and adventure, showing he can pull off a good story for younger audiences without dumbing things down. He’s got this knack for making every project feel like it matters, like he’s not just filling seats but actually trying to nudge people’s hearts a little. That’s Roberto Girault—always in the mix, always chasing something real.