They say that “no good deed goes unpunished.” If you doubt that, just ask Oscar Restrepo (Ubeimar Rios). The middle-aged, modestly talented poet struggles to get by on multiple fronts, but, to be honest, he’s often his own worst enemy, frequently getting in his own way, digging in his heels and refusing to make any compromises that might make his life easier and more palatable. He’s broke financially, living with his aging mother (Margarita Soto), and relations with his largely estranged college-age daughter (Alisson Correa) are severely strained, particularly since she pities him as a pathetic loser. He also pleads with the publishers of his two long-ago released poetry books (Guillermo Cardona, Humberto Restrepo) to provide more marketing support for these titles in the hope that it will attract more readers to his work, something he firmly and sincerely believes is vital to the betterment and survival of society, not to mention his artistic visibility and personal well-being. And, if all this weren’t challenging enough, he’s got something of a drinking problem. But, try as he might to rectify these matters, this “sad poet” (or, more aptly described, “sad sack”) sees little improvement in any of these areas. So, with his back against the wall, he at least finally relents on the financial front and takes a job as a teacher, a position he looks upon with disdain, as if he’s compromising his artistic sensibilities. However, while in this new job, he discovers a student who appears to have genuine talent as a poet, Yurlady (Rebeca Andrade), a 15-year-old minority from an economically challenged background. Oscar wants to help her develop her art, helping her become enrolled in the poetry school run by his publishers, an opportunity that would allow her to participate in its poetry festival, creating greater exposure for her work and possibly enabling her to win a cash prize. It also gives him a chance to vicariously experience her success, something that hasn’t come to pass in its own right in his own life. Indeed, Oscar’s plan to help Yurlady all sounds so eminently reasonable. But, as the opening line of this summary maintains, whatever can go wrong seems to find a way to fulfillment, especially for someone who’s convinced he’s irretrievably cursed, a “sad poet” in the truest sense of the term. However, as Oscar’s pathos plays out, it’s thoroughly tinged with droll humor, ironically but hilariously confirming his worst fears about himself and how others see him. His becomes a story of bad luck personified, not only in endeavors where he shoots himself in the foot, but also in undertakings where he earnestly attempts to do something good and noble. He’s truly a hard luck case for whom it’s easy to feel sorry, but his is more the tale of a sad clown than a genuinely tragic figure, one about whom it’s easy to laugh at, but more out of loving support than harsh ridicule. Even in the height of his anguish, he’s someone that viewers can’t help but pull for, hoping that he will somehow find a way to make things work and at last achieve a semblance of happiness in his life and calling. Writer-director Simón Mesa Soto has come up with a genuinely inspired piece of filmmaking in his second feature effort, one that has garnered more than its share of awards and nominations from film festivals and awards competitions, including as the winner of the 2025 Cannes Film Festival Un Certain Regard Jury Prize and as an Independent Spirit Award nominee for best international film. But, despite these accolades, “A Poet” is clearly one of those delicious little indie gems that has flown well under the radar thus far, even though its gentle, witty humor, fine performances, and atmospheric soundtrack are all elements well worth the watch. And, while poetry may not necessarily be everyone’s cup of tea, the filmmaker has successfully found a way to make it a warm and thoroughly enjoyable experience. Do yourself a good deed and give this one a look; I promise you won’t be punished for it.