Documentary short “La Tierra del Valor (Home of the Brave)”, premiering at the 2026 Sundance Film Festival, opens a timely conversation about immigration enforcement, civic courage and what it means to stand up in moments of uncertainty.
The film centers on singer Vanessa Hernandez, known professionally as Nezza, whose invitation to perform the national anthem at Dodger Stadium last summer shifted from a dream opportunity into something far more complicated when she chose to sing it in Spanish. Set against an increased presence of immigration enforcement in Los Angeles, the performance took on added weight during a period of heightened fear and uncertainty for many immigrant families.
Adding to the moment’s significance, the performance took place on June 14, 2025, the same day as President Trump’s military parade. Across the country and in cities around the world, No Kings Day demonstrations formed in protest of the administration, underscoring the broader tensions surrounding the moment.
For Nezza, the decision came as a choice of support.
In 1945, “El Pendón Estrellado” was commissioned by the U.S. State Department at the request of President Franklin D. Roosevelt as the official Spanish-language version of “The Star-Spangled Banner” — the version Nezza ultimately chose to perform.
For her, the decision was rooted in identity and heritage, a way to stand in solidarity with those who are suffering while also expressing pride in the country where she was born.
“La Tierra del Valor” captures the events surrounding that performance through intimate, firsthand footage and places it within a broader cultural and political moment that has grown since the event took place.
For director Cristina Costantini, the story felt immediate and deeply personal. Before transitioning into documentary filmmaking, she spent years as an immigration reporter, covering detention centers, family separation and the actions of federal agencies such as Immigration and Customs Enforcement.
“This subject matter has always been very close to me,” Costantini said. “As a Latina woman who speaks English and Spanish fluently, I felt like it was my civic duty to hold this agency to account.”
After stepping away from investigative reporting to make films centered on music and culture, Costantini said the past year brought her back to the issues she had long documented. Living in Los Angeles, she and producer Alfie Koetter witnessed firsthand the fear rippling through immigrant communities.
“There was this eerie silence,” Koetter said, describing the absence of familiar sounds like street vendors in neighborhoods affected by raids. “Even if you weren’t directly affected, you could feel it.”
During that time, Nezza’s performance stood out. Costantini said she was struck by the contrast between powerful institutions remaining silent and what she described as “one tiny woman” stepping forward, taking a stand and ultimately making a difference.
Much of the film’s footage was shot by Nezza’s partner, Keean, who documented the day on his phone — from rehearsals that morning to interactions with Dodgers representatives before the performance. That footage allowed Costantini to construct an honest story that brings viewers into the moment without relying solely on news clips or retrospective commentary.
“I love that it was this up close look at what bravery looks like because I think bravery is abstract. You often think these are people that are different than I am, these are people who are just born different, who do the right thing, they’re just brave and I’m not brave,” she said. “But you see that Nez is like a real rule follower, goody two-shoes, normal woman who just in that moment, she did something that she normally would probably have never done, and it made all the difference.”
Costantini emphasised Nezza’s decision carried real risk, coming at a moment when her career was just beginning to take off and could have been derailed.
She said Nezza told them she didn’t know which language to sing in until the final moment, describing how nervous Nezza felt leading up to the performance.
Produced on a rapid timeline and with minimal resources, Costantini said “La Tierra del Valor” was made largely through the contributions of collaborators who believed in the story. With very limited funds, shooting began in early September, the film was submitted in October, and the creators learned it was accepted to Sundance in November.
Everybody who worked on the project, Costantini said, was working for the love of the story and for the feeling of how immediate it is.
“We need heroes right now. We need people who are standing up to the violence, idiocy and xenophobia of ICE raids and this administration.”
The film also incorporates imagery of Latino street vendors, workers and families — a creative solution that emerged after the filmmakers were unable to license footage from inside Dodger Stadium for a crucial scene.
Drawing on trusted relationships built during her years as a reporter, Costantini worked with community members who felt comfortable participating, resulting in portraits that center dignity, presence and everyday life.
“It was important that people felt safe and comfortable,” Costantini said. “We wanted proud Latino faces, people showing up for work, living their lives.”
“La Tierra del Valor” is dedicated to the filmmakers’ close friend Tatiana Schlossberg, who passed away shortly before the film’s completion. Schlossberg’s family history, they said, is deeply connected to U.S. immigration policy through her grandfather, President John F. Kennedy, whose administration reshaped immigration law in the 1960s.
Koetter said he and Costantini feel a deep sense of gratitude tied to that legacy, noting their families’ ability to be in the United States is connected to the immigration policies shaped during Kennedy’s presidency.
He said Kennedy helped give immigration a moral grounding, framing it as an act of welcome and emphasizing that immigrants are not in opposition to the American dream, but its heartbeat.
With the film’s premiere in Park City, the filmmakers said they are mindful of the community hosting it.
“You can see the value of immigrants in Park City,” Costantini said. “The people who cook our food, care for our children, keep things running. They are essential.”
Ultimately, Costantini and Koetter hope the film serves as both a reflection and a call to action.
“When things do feel as dire as they are right now, it’s important to find stories that inspire people and remind everybody that there are actions we can take and things we can do, and that, despite how it might seem, there is hope to be had,” said Koetter.
Costantini echoed that sentiment, emphasizing that maintaining hope is essential to sustaining action and that both organization and courage are needed in moments of uncertainty.
“Part of what I wanted this film to do is to ready people for the fight ahead, to give people the courage that we all need right now … were all going to be required to be brave,” Costantini said, noting that courage can take many forms, from public protest and signing petitions to documenting ICE when they’re in your neighborhood.
Koetter added that the film also embraces fear as part of that process, to allow yourself to feel afraid, emphasizing that bravery does not come from the absence of fear but from moving forward despite it.
“I feel really happy to have learned that lesson from Nezza, because now, when that time comes and it feels unfortunately like it’s an inevitability, being afraid is not going to be the thing that will stop me.”
“La Tierra del Valor” screenings
- 5:30 p.m., Jan. 23, Broadway Centre Cinemas
- 1:50 p.m., Jan. 25, Megaplex Redstone
- 10:20 a.m., Jan. 31, Megaplex Redstone
- 9 a.m., Feb. 1, Holliday Village Cinemas
- Online screening as part of the shorts program 1.