With Dreamin’, Cuco entrusts A.G. Rojas with the task of translating a track between sweetness and unease into imagery. The director responds with a story that reflects the complex reality of Los Angeles, where political tension and the fragility of migrant communities form the backdrop to everyday life. Without emphasis or rhetoric, Rojas constructs a video that proceeds through minimal gestures and immediate symbols, conveying a sense of hope that emerges from the most vulnerable places.
In this interview for Video of the Week, Rojas goes into detail about the genesis of the project and shares how music, politics, and everyday life intertwine in his creative process.
Giorgia Pedini: How did you and Cuco develop the narrative? Did the story come from the music, the lyrics, or from conversations between you? When did the political dimension enter the creative process?
A.G. Rojas: I don’t usually do music videos, but when I do, I usually just go off on my own and write an idea based on whatever comes to mind while listening to the song. There usually isn’t a lot of back and forth; we land on an idea, and then we execute it.
The political dimension was there from the beginning because of how we’re living right now in Los Angeles. With the state violence we see every day here, it feels almost impossible to tell a story about L.A. today without including that element in some way.
I’ve been listening to Cuco’s music for a long time, since he started as a major presence, and I’d always wanted to work with him. I think he was familiar with my work too, and we both come from a place that’s very distinctly rooted in Los Angeles.
GP: The first thing one feels after watching Dreamin’ is hope; the video feels just like a prayer. If it is a prayer, who is it truly directed to? The establishment, the oppressed, or the viewer?
AGR: That’s a good question. I was actually thinking about it over the weekend. I was thinking about everyone who’s working really hard right now because of what’s happening in Los Angeles with the raids.
It’s meant as a word of encouragement or support for the immigration lawyers working tirelessly, and also for the communities and community leaders who are teaching neighborhoods how to protect themselves. It’s for the people who are holding everything together, many of them volunteers who stand outside Home Depots and warn workers if ICE is coming. So in that sense, it’s a kind of love letter to them. And to your point, I think the video makes it clear in the end that we will win, and that they’ll have to reckon with that. So yes, it’s like a prayer, but also a reminder that justice will prevail.
GP: The chained dog is a very powerful image of vulnerability. When did you realize that an animal, rather than a human character, would be the first to convey the theme of oppression?
AGR: It comes from personal experience. Rescuing dogs has been a real part of my life, not just in different places around the world, but specifically here in L.A., picking up strays off the street and trying to find their owners. So for this project, since the song has a tender quality, I wanted there to be a love story, but I also needed a strong narrative reason to bring the kid into it and keep the tone hopeful.
I started thinking about those moments in my own life, walking past houses and seeing animals clearly being mistreated, and the times I tried to rescue them, sometimes successfully, sometimes not. And honestly, we love dogs, so it just made sense that this would be the first image to express vulnerability and oppression.
GP: Music in your projects is not just accompanied; it becomes the narrative itself. In Pare de Sufrir, the music is almost uninterrupted, even under dialogue. How do you understand the relationship between score, sound, and emotional storytelling?
AGR: I don’t think I’ve ever made anything, even in my personal work, that really relies on dialogue. Even when I was young and making little projects, everything was told visually. I’m much more interested in what we can communicate through gesture, movement, and emotion rather than through words. That’s a big part of why I’ve focused so much of my energy on music videos; the format is perfect for exploring that.
With Pare de Sufrir, I always knew it would basically be a silent film with music. It’s not a choreographed dance; everything is improvised in the moment, but it’s built around the gaze, subtle movements, and physical language. James William Blades, the composer, was going through a difficult time as well, and he went off and wrote the music from that place, which really shaped the emotional tone.
So the approach is similar to how I work on music videos: I listen to the song, and images just come to mind. When James closes his eyes, he hears sounds; when I close mine, I see pictures. Bringing those two sensory worlds together is how the narrative forms, a mix of emotion translated into visual storytelling.