Hosa

How can we capture buried memories, microaggressions and the wounds we carry without always being able to put a name to them? With *Hosa*, Gerheta Jupiter creates a sensory world where light, sound and slam poetry bring to life the inner world of a young woman searching for her identity.

At the heart of *Hosa* lies a personal need: to tell the stories that are all too often left untold. For Gerheta Jupiter, the relationship with one’s hair is an intimate story, but also a collective one, particularly for Black women. Aesthetic norms, the gaze of others and painful experiences can become ingrained in the body and alter the way a person perceives themselves. The director therefore chooses to begin with a concrete act: cutting straightened hair to restore its natural texture, in order to explore a much deeper psychological reality.

Her intention is not merely to tell the story of a 20-year-old woman’s emancipation. She wishes to reveal what lies behind this desire for freedom: the memories that resurface, the lingering traumas and the difficulty of rebuilding one’s life when the past continues to weigh heavily on the present.

In this inner world, red takes centre stage. Gerheta Jupiter conceives of it as an enveloping colour, capable of evoking warmth, anxiety and vitality all at once. It becomes the realm in which memories resurface unfiltered, a timeless space where pain and the possibility of transformation converge.

The choice of this colour contributes to the film’s sensory identity. The aim is not to illustrate Hosa’s emotions literally, but to create an atmosphere that allows the viewer to experience them. The viewer is thus invited to feel before seeking to understand.

Through these directorial choices, Gerheta Jupiter aims to create an intimate and immersive experience, capable of moving the audience beyond a mere understanding of the narrative. The film is aimed particularly at Black women, resonating with certain experiences they share relating to hair, social expectations and the passing on of traditions. But it also invites everyone to reflect on their own wounds and their relationship with the norms that shape identities.

The aim is not to impose a single interpretation nor to offer a miraculous cure. Reconstruction remains fragile, uneven and at times painful, but it remains possible.

With *Hosa*, Gerheta Jupiter thus turns cinema into a space where the intimate becomes visible, where sound and poetry give form to the unspeakable, and where a simple gesture involving one’s hair can pave the way for a reappropriation of the self.