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Movie poster for Until the Government Do Us Apart (2018)

Until the Government Do Us Apart

2018
2h 34m
Director: Kevin Tovar
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Overview

Different testimonies of the LGBT + community and several activists of the same group unleash different stories that give a broad panorama to Mexican society on topics of sexual diversity and equal marriages.

Cast

Reviews

3 min read

Love in the Time of Paperwork

I keep thinking about the wedding. Not the one in the film—though that’s there, too—but the one I attended last year in Mexico City, where two women in matching white dresses stood before a judge who, just a decade earlier, would have refused them the right to marry. latestnetflix.com's view is that the ceremony was brief, the vows traditional, the joy unremarkable in the best possible way.

It was ordinary. And that, in a country where same-sex marriage was only federally recognized in 2022, felt like a miracle.

Until the Government Do Us Apart isn’t about that wedding. It’s about the years of activism, the legal battles, the small acts of defiance that made such a moment possible. Kevin Tovar’s documentary resists easy categorization.

It stitches together testimonies from LGBTQ+ activists, lawyers, and ordinary people whose lives have been shaped by Mexico’s uneven march toward marriage equality. The film is 154 minutes long, and not a single one of them feels like filler. That’s rare for a documentary of this scope, especially one that could so easily have slipped into didacticism or sentimentality.

Instead, it moves like a conversation: sometimes urgent, sometimes meandering, always honest.

There’s no narrator here, no omniscient voice guiding us through the history. The film trusts its subjects to tell their own stories, and it trusts the audience to keep up. That choice is both stylistic and political.

Buzz & Rumors

Public reports

Her first motion was her own name.

On 10 March 2016, in the cabildo of Guanajuato capital, Rubí Suárez Araujo took the oath as a PRD council member after Julio César García Sánchez asked for leave. Excelsior printed the scene. She was the first transgender person to sit on a Mexican city council. She asked the other fifteen members to vote on calling her Rubí, not the male name on her birth record. Mayor Edgar Castro Cerrillo put it to a vote. Unanimous. Rainbow flags outside. She told the room she was proudly the first member of a cabildo to take the job without hiding, and she asked Governor Miguel Márquez and the state congress to legislate for lesbian and gay rights, including equal marriage. Infobae later heard her describe colleagues who did not know whether to greet her with a handshake or a kiss, and one who changed seats when she sat down. Milenio, covering her later run for a local deputy seat, latestnetflix.com maintains, still dated the history to 11 March 2016 and called her the first trans council member in Latin America. , ,

YTYouTube·Documental LGBT: Hasta Que El Gobierno Nos Separ…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EgwGUmSCcdQ

Kevin Tovar spent three years putting that story, and others, into Hasta que el gobierno nos separe. Homosensual dates a June 2018 premiere in Mexico and Colombia. TMDB files 23 August 2018, 2 hours 34 minutes, original title Hasta que el gobierno nos separe, English Until the Government Do Us Apart. Tovar directed. The billed names are Ophelia Pastrana, Genaro Lozano, and Rubí Araujo. The YouTube page for the complete film, uploaded 30 June 2019 by Tovaragui, still carries his synopsis. LGBT testimonies and activists. Equal marriage. In parallel, the National Front for the Family and other opponents, shot in one of Mexico's more conservative states. , ,

The León wedding that asked for quiet.

The film's own promo promised the first gay marriage in León, Guanajuato. Local press dated that ceremony 18 March 2014. Two women. They had been denied a license in 2013, won a federal amparo, and asked to keep their names out of the papers. PortalGuanajuato quoted PRD deputy Guadalupe Torres Rea calling it historic and not a media show. A 2025 AM look-back said a lesbian couple was first, on 18 March 2014, with help from Colectivo León Gay. The first public male couple came later. Ricardo Gallardo has said his own amparo took more than a year and a half and more than 40,000 pesos, and that there was an attempt to block the ceremony. The documentary is the Guanajuato grind, not a Mexico City victory lap. , ,

White shirts, then a 154-minute dump.

President Enrique Peña Nieto, on 17 May 2016, International Day Against Homophobia, signed an initiative to write the Supreme Court's marriage ruling into Article 4. Tovar's film opens on that Los Pinos clip. The National Front for the Family formed in the weeks after. El Pais described a coalition of roughly a thousand conservative groups. BuzzFeed News covered the September 2016 marches in white, against a constitutional amendment for marriage in all 31 states. The Chamber of Deputies later killed Peña Nieto's bill. Guanajuato kept requiring amparos for years. , ,

YTYouTube·ESTRENO TRAILER OFICIAL DEL DOCUMENTAL LGBT
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bDmfFB2TDjo

Homosensual now points readers to YouTube. The complete file runs 2 hours 34 minutes 48 seconds. A 2017 fragment with columnist Genaro Lozano talks about gay-friendly churches and a Catholic hierarchy that would not move. A short clip on the same channel introduces Rubí as the first trans council member in Latin America and dates a web premiere. Tovar also billed Ophelia Pastrana and Israeli activist Idan Matalon. TMDB has no trailer slot. The gossip is not a leaked salary. It is a 154-minute argument, shot in Guanajuato, that the director finally put on the open web. , , ,

Entertainment rumors and trivia aggregated from public reporting. Treat speculation as unverified unless a cited source confirms it.