March 3, 2026
By Adam Rabiner
A drone shot above a farm. Below, people are picking strawberries. It looks like California. A conventional tableau. Another film about the exploitation of migrant labor. Yet the 18-year-old narrator is one of the people in the field—Ashley Solis Pavont tells us that she was born in the United States to a family of Mexican healers. So were her three younger siblings, all of whose names, like hers, start with “Ash.” Their mother, Beatriz, told them it symbolizes a meadow of trees with roots that establish the family here in the U.S. After that initial scene, the rest of the movie takes place in their crowded, rundown house shared with 12 other families; Watsonville High School, where Ashley is a senior; a shop where Ashley is trying to find the perfect graduation dress; a fruit processing plant where Ashley works the 10:00 p.m. to 6:00 a.m. shift; and other parts of town. This is not a film about migrants, but rather of a mixed-status family—an undocumented mother raising citizen children. Twenty-two years earlier, a deathly ill Beatriz was brought to the U.S. for urgent medical care and granted a temporary visa. In her fevered state, the nurses caring for her as she lay in her hospital bed appeared as angels.
Beatriz, a spiritual and religious woman, works seven days a week as a house cleaner. Since she is divorced and without financial support from her ex-husband, Ashley must also work to support the family. Ashley observes that her younger brother, 16-year-old Ashford, whose nickname is “Barron,” meanwhile, acts like a little kid, skateboarding, playing video games and hanging out with his girlfriend Ximena, who becomes pregnant by him. Ashley says that he lives in a fantasy world where all the burdens fall on women. While Beatriz encourages her eldest daughter to complete high school to get a better-paying job, she reinforces traditional patriarchal roles and expectations, magnifying Ashley’s challenges. Often too tired from her night shift to go to school, Ashley’s poor attendance jeopardizes her graduation.
Fruits of Labor takes place in 2018 in a more threatening America. There are no video news clips of I.C.E. raids, but Beatriz and Ashley nervously hover around an iPhone listening to reports of arrests, detentions and family separations. Fearing her deportation, Beatriz has Ashley designated as the legal guardian of her siblings. Despite this ominous backdrop, not every American institution is indifferent. Ashley’s high school teaches the history of the United Farm Workers Union and New Deal legislation that exempted domestic and agricultural labor from worker protections—a 12-year-old can legally work in the fields. Hanging from a wall are college and pre-college posters, and the school’s motto echoes Beatriz’s wishes, “Dream Big, Work Hard.” Teachers, guidance counselors and the principal are sympathetic and caring.
Ashley also has support from a girlfriend and a devoted boyfriend, Adrian, with whom she takes long walks in the countryside or along the shore, discussing matters such as their spirit animals and reincarnation. Ashley is thoughtful, intelligent, curious, articulate, self-aware and yet uncertain and scared. She’s a teenager who wishes her life could be more normal, like Ashford’s, but who has been prematurely thrust into an adult life of burdens and responsibilities. Her chosen animal is a turtle who just wants to hide in its shell.
Like the family profiled, the film itself is steeped in spirituality. Time-lapse cinematography shows flowers blooming, and animations depict fruits ripening. Imagery of bees and Monarch butterflies suggests ancestral forces and cycles of nature (and perhaps the ties between the U.S. and Mexico, where the Monarchs make their arduous journeys). These forces also help to sustain.
Hanging in the Pavon home is a print of a red, white and blue American flag waving above the word “freedom.” This is a family that loves America, even though some aspects of America do not appear, at this moment, to fully love them back. The country depicted in the film has two faces. One is foreboding, while the other is welcoming and encouraging. Like Beatriz long ago in her sickbed, this family chooses to see our better angels.
Fruits of Labor Tuesday, March 10th, 2026
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From October 2025 through March 2026, Plow to Plate is exclusively featuring films distributed by Grasshopper Film. Reversa Films produced Fruits of Labor.
Adam Rabiner lives in Ditmas Park with his wife, Dina.