Latest news with #Alcarràs
Yahoo
21-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Carla Simón on Going Back to the Roots With Cannes Competition Title ‘Romería'
For her third feature, Spanish filmmaker Carla Simón is going back to where it all began — both geographically and emotionally. Premiering in competition at the Cannes Film Festival on Wednesday, Romería marks a poignant conclusion to Simón's loosely connected trilogy of family-centered dramas, each inspired by different chapters of her own life. The new film follows Alcarràs, which won the Golden Bear at the Berlinale in 2022, and Summer 1993, her celebrated debut. In Romería, Simón turns the camera inward once more, this time to explore the aching absence of parents lost too soon. Drawing from her late adolescence, the story centers on 18-year-old Marina, an orphan who, at the age of 6, lost both of her parents to drug addiction and AIDS. Marina travels to Spain's Atlantic coast to meet her estranged paternal relatives for the first time. What begins as a formal errand — securing a scholarship signature — unfolds into a quiet reckoning with a legacy of addiction, AIDS, and generational silence. More from The Hollywood Reporter Channel 4 to Move Into Production Amid IP Focus: "Global Income to Drive U.K. Content Investment" Elizabeth Hurley to Play Dead Glamorous Benefactor in Channel 4 Reality Show 'The Deceased' Jafar Panahi Intends to Keep Up the Fight Via Film: "Even My Closest Friends Had Given up Hope" Visually lush and emotionally layered, the film reunites Simón with cinematographer Hélène Louvart (La Chimera, The Lost Daughter) and blends her signature neorealism with a surreal edge. Though Romería may be fiction, its emotional truth is raw and deeply personal. 'At some point, I realized I could never ask [my parents] the truth, and even if they were here, I wouldn't know if the stories they told me were real—because that's how memory works,' Simón says. 'So I decided to invent what I needed to invent.' Simón spoke to The Hollywood Reporter ahead of Cannes about confronting a forgotten chapter in Spanish history, letting fiction do what memory can't, and why she hopes her daughter never makes a film about her. This film is being pitched as the third in a kind of family trilogy. Was that something you had planned out well ahead of time? No, I think it happened more in the making, actually. We looked at the definition of trilogy, and it's not quite accurate because it should be the same characters, and it's not. These are three totally different and separate films. But for me, it's a kind of closing of a cycle because all three films talk about my family. I have a very big family with lots of stories. So for me, it was quite natural to start talking about that. Now I think I will look in other directions and stop bothering my family. So maybe 'trilogy' isn't the right word, but there is a connection between these three films that are very tied to my personal and family stories. Tell me about this new one. What was the origin of the idea? Was there a specific place or event that triggered it for you?I think it mainly comes from my frustration of not being able to know my parents' story. I lost them both when I was a kid, and at some point, I wanted to know more, but it was difficult. I tried asking their friends and my family, but memory is very subjective. You try to put pieces together, but they never quite match. At some point, I realized I could never ask them, and even if they were here, I wouldn't know if the stories they told me were real because that's how memory works—you keep remembering and changing things. So I think it comes more from this desire to build a story, to build my own identity. Through film, I could invent what I needed to invent to tell this story that I feel nobody else could tell me. How close did you want to stick to the facts of the story? Did you research and try to find specific details about your parents, or did you feel free to invent since it's fiction anyway?Honestly, there is a lot of fiction in the film. I always start these three films by talking a lot to my family, observing, and collecting memories from everyone. But at some point, it has to work as fiction. So there are many things I made up just to make the script and story work. I did take a trip to meet some of my uncles when I was the age of the main character, Marina, but the research felt endless. At some point, I just had to invent things for the story to work properly. Even the characters are quite fictional—the family configuration isn't exactly like my real family. What elements in the movie are directly taken from your family—whether a character, event, or situation?I think the main character's attitude—how she faces this situation of discovering her family at this age—is very similar to how I faced it. She has this distance, this desire to know, but also this reluctance to get too involved. I feel she's very close to me. The film also became about the desire to become a filmmaker, which is also part of my story. The emotions I felt during this journey are very close to reality, but specific scenes are quite fictional. The locations, though, are important—they're the places where my dad was born and raised, and where my parents' love story happened. So many things are taken from reality, but the scenes themselves are invented. Was there anything in the writing process that surprised you? Did you discover something you didn't expect while working on the script?Maybe at the beginning, I wasn't fully conscious that I wasn't just telling my story but also trying to piece together my parents' story and a whole generation's story. In Spain in the '80s, there was a moment of freedom and partying that ended with many people getting hooked on heroin and drugs. A whole generation was affected, and we don't talk much about it because it caused so much pain. This is part of Spain's historical memory. While writing, I realized I wasn't just talking about my parents but about this entire generation. The film became more political than I initially intended, which was a happy surprise because it means the film also talks about Spanish history. How has your family reacted to your previous films? Are they annoyed or angry when you change things?With my first two films, I worked a lot with my family's cooperation. My brother is the musician for my films, and my sister acts in them or helps if she's not acting. It's like making films with family—I involve everyone. They know what we're doing. With Alcarràs, about my adoptive mom's family, they were a bit afraid of how they'd be portrayed, so I read the script with them before shooting. This time, one of the uncles in the film is very close to me, and he actually plays himself — he's a notary in real life. I like to involve them. When they see the films, it's always been okay because I make sure to portray them in a complex but human way. They haven't seen this one yet, and I'm always nervous when they do, but we've talked a lot, so it should be fine. Did you approach this film differently from your previous two? Has being more established changed how you worked?You do gain confidence. With the first and second films, you feel like you have to prove something. This time, I felt freer, which allowed me to take more risks. The structure of the script — her meeting each family member and then imagining her parents' story — was something I might not have dared to do before. Each film should be a challenge; you shouldn't just repeat what you've done. Being on my third film gave me the freedom to accept that if something doesn't work, it's okay. Growing as a filmmaker means taking risks. Is there a specific scene or day on set that was particularly challenging or that you're especially proud of?I love filming big family lunches, they're very Spanish, and I've done them in all three films. But when I'm actually shooting, I always think, Why did I write this? It's so difficult. You have 12 people talking at the same time, eating, and it's hard for them to sit for eight hours. This time, we shot with two cameras and tried a different approach. The tone shifts during the scene, and they end up singing together, which was tricky. Another challenging but fun scene was the dance sequence — a kind of musical moment where they all dance to an '80s song. It was my first time working with a choreographer, and it was really exciting to try something new. Casting the actress who plays a version of you — what were you looking for?It was a challenge. We saw about 3,000 girls—it's a great age because many want to participate in castings. The girl we found had never acted before; she was coming home from Girl Scouts when someone from casting approached her. She was perfect for what we needed, but it was the hardest casting I've ever done because she had to play two characters — herself and her mother. Many girls could do one part but not the other. It took us seven or eight months to find her, but it was about intuition. She could embody both roles, and I felt a connection to my teenage self through her. How has making these films changed your relationship to your parents' story?I feel closer to them. When you spend so long writing and thinking in images, you can't help but feel connected. It was important for me not to judge them for what they lived through. Many families feel shame about this period in Spain, but I don't. This generation shaped who we are now—they rebelled against the dictatorship and changed society in the '70s. Understanding this through the film has brought me closer to my parents and made me appreciate their generation more. You've said this is the last of your family explorations. Are you looking to do something completely different next?I think so. Family is fascinating because you don't choose them—the relationships are complex, full of history and unconditional love, but also traumas. I think family will always inspire me, but now we're preparing a flamenco musical, which has nothing to do with my family. I'm also pregnant with my second child, and I feel like now is a good time to look forward, not just to the past. If your children come to you in 20 years and say, what would you say?I've never thought about that—it's a new question! I couldn't say no—that would be unfair after what I've done. But it depends on who I am in 20 years. Maybe I'd struggle to let go of my role as a director. But I'd probably have to say, Do whatever you want—because that's what I've been doing. Maybe you could produce it and keep some control.[Laughs] Exactly. Best of The Hollywood Reporter 'The Goonies' Cast, Then and Now "A Nutless Monkey Could Do Your Job": From Abusive to Angst-Ridden, 16 Memorable Studio Exec Portrayals in Film and TV The 10 Best Baseball Movies of All Time, Ranked
Yahoo
21-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
‘Romería' Review: A Budding Filmmaker Pursues Her Parents' Obscured Past in Carla Simón's Lovely, Pensive Coastal Voyage
'Romería' is the Spanish word for pilgrimage, ostensibly a clear and apt title for the third feature by writer-director Carla Simón. Based on travels the filmmaker herself undertook as a teenager to meet an extended family she had never known, this is a kind of road movie by sea, journeying in pursuit of some sense of self-completion. Yet as the film wends its way through the narrow streets, harbors and glittering waters of Spain's salty Galician coastline, immersing itself in chaotic gatherings of family and community, the title's spiritual aspect takes on a rueful irony. There's no holy destination or revelation here, and certainly no warm sense of homecoming — though in finding where she doesn't belong, Simón's fictional alter ego can at last make sense of her own fragmented childhood memories, and those she's retrieved from her late biological parents. After the expansive sociological study of her sophomore feature 'Alcarràs,' winner of the Golden Bear at the 2022 Berlinale, Simón's latest sees her returning to the expressly autobiographical territory of her 2017 debut 'Summer 1993.' Once again processing her grief and lingering disorientation in the wake of both her parents' AIDS-related deaths in the early 1990s, the new film is not a direct sequel to 'Summer 1993' — her avatars are differently named and characterized in each — but does gracefully extend its predecessor's depiction of early childhood trauma to the tremulous brink of adulthood. No knowledge of Simón's life or previous work is required, however, to be drawn into this layered, wistfully moving memory piece, which is sure to further boost her rising arthouse profile after premiering in competition at Cannes. More from Variety 'My Father's Shadow' Producer Funmbi Ogunbanwo Headlines Inaugural African Producers Accelerator Program (EXCLUSIVE) Mórbido TV and Screen Capital Unveil Umbra, a Genre-First Streaming Hub for the LatAm Market (EXCLUSIVE) Valeria Golino on Her Chemistry With Matilda De Angelis in Mario Martone's 'Fuori': 'We Were Really Lucky to Fall in Love' We're now in the summer of 2004, and 18-year-old cinephile Marina (Llúcia Garcia) is freshly graduated from high school and preparing to study filmmaking in Barcelona — with the aid of a scholarship for which she's still missing some essential paperwork. Required, for arcane bureaucratic reasons, is a notarized recognition of kinship from her paternal grandparents, who have never acknowledged or communicated with Marina in the years since her father died, leaving her to be raised by adoptive parents. That entails traveling all the way across the country to the city of Vigo on the edge of the Atlantic, where she's met by her genial uncle Lois (Tristán Ulloa) and a loud gaggle of cousins, who in turn ferry her to the grandparental home — though not before a languid day's sailing and swimming around the picturesque Cíes Islands, where Marina's parents spent their own youth frolicking. Marina's loose, camcorder-shot video diary of her trip is often laid over narrated extracts from her mother's journal written some 20-odd years before — which detail her ambitions, insecurities and moments of bliss in her itinerant relationship with Alfonso, Marina's father, as they drift around the same shores their daughter is now exploring for the first time. The paralleling of these twin accounts serves, among other things, to show how far Marina's path has diverged from that of the parents who never got to see her grow up: Where they were reckless, restless, increasingly drug-dependent hedonists, she's a quiet observer of life, reserved and straightedge, bemused by the rowdy antics of her oldest cousin Nuno (mononymous actor Mitch) and his cohort. Yet while the family, in all its whirling, garrulous energy, appears outwardly welcoming to the newcomer, Marina soon encounters limits to their acceptance. Her grandmother (Marina Troncoso) is haughty and openly hostile, asking only why it's taken her this long to visit, and while her grandfather (José Ángel Egido) is friendlier, he'd rather pay her off generously than sign any forms legally binding them. Marina's young cousins, meanwhile, ask if she's ill, since they've been told never to touch her blood: The disease that killed her parents remains a source of stigmatized shame in the family, and her presence is a discomfiting reminder of it. Through conversations with various relatives, Marina learns from their conflicting accounts how fundamental facts of her parents' lives have been kept secret from her: Childhood memories are revised in real time, and her sense of self is thrown in flux. As in her previous features, Simón's filmmaking is warmly tactile and attuned to both human movement and geographic texture. Her first collaboration with world cinema super-DP Hélène Louvart feels entirely natural, the camera mobile but breezily unhurried as it weaves through heaving domestic spaces or around the rusted, characterful cityscape of Vigo, drinking in the milky sunlight and long afternoon shadows, but never resorting to postcard compositions. A slight swerve into daydreamy magical realism in the film's second half comes as a surprise from Simón, though it's grounded in purpose, serving as a bridge from Marina's self-shot evocation of her parents' youth to direct, grainy, unprettified flashbacks to days of hanging out, shooting up and making love. Thus do we become privy to sensory flashes outside our protagonist's perspective, from trippy nights on the titles in 1980s punk clubs to a tangle of leathery seaweed and tattooed limbs during one beachside embrace. Simón's sweetly sorrowful ode to lost family imagines what might have been, while acknowledging that not all memories can be passed down between generations — some die deliciously with us. Best of Variety The Best Albums of the Decade
Yahoo
14-02-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Has Spain's Focus on Commercial Appeal Diminished the Country's Festival Footprint?
Spanish cinema has seen significant changes since the pandemic, as observed by its sales agents. Despite recent successes, such as top prizes at the Berlinale in 2022 ('Alcarràs') and 2023 ('20,000 Species of Bees'), the limited selection of Spanish films at this year's event has raised questions about the long-term forecast for the Spanish industry. Commercially, Spanish films sell well abroad, and animation and genre titles are hot commodities. A key factor in Spain's industry growth has been an influx of productions backed by monied TV companies and local streamers. That can be a double-edged sword. More from Variety Thai Horror 'Delivery Man' Casts Bhumibhat Thavornsiri, Plearnpichaya Komalarajun and Ananda Everingham - EFM (EXCLUSIVE) DR Sales Boards Explosive Mads Brügger Series 'The Black Swan': 'Like 'The Sopranos' in Real Life' (EXCLUSIVE) Burhan Qurbani on His 'No Beast. So Fierce': 'Freedom Is Something That Is Reserved for Them, the White German Society, Not for Us' 'The arrival of streamers has had an impact on the consumption habits of viewers, both in cinema and on TV, and also on the production of content,' says Javier Esteban at The Mediapro Studio. MoreThan Films' Queralt Pons suggests those changing habits have 'shifted focus toward series rather than feature films and have also led to a homogenization of the audiovisual language. Streamers seek formulas that guarantee global success, prioritizing formats and narratives that are easily exportable.' According to Yennifer Fasciani at Feel Sales, this has created one of the most significant challenges for Spanish sales agents focused on independent titles: 'Navigating a market that increasingly favors safe bets. Buyers today often lean towards films with guaranteed box office appeal. This creates an uphill battle for independent films.' While current Spanish offerings may succeed at the local box office and charm international distributors, many wonder if the current formula is sustainable without appearances at events like the Berlinale. Vicente Canales at Film Factory isn't sure. 'We should be very, very worried [about dwindling festival appearances],' he argues. 'Under the leadership of [former Berlin director Dieter Kosslick], there was always a strong Spanish presence at the Berlinale, but since 2019, Film Factory, for example, hasn't had a film in the program.' Filmax's Iván Diaz says the fault must be shared. '[The Spanish industry] is also to blame in a way. I think the bar has been raised regarding our movies and the next generation of directors. The Spanish product is better than it was years ago, commercially speaking, but we're not doing well at festivals. It's alarming seeing much smaller countries that don't do as well in sales being much more successful at festivals.' For many boutique companies, even when Spanish films do find festival success, they're hard to sell because, unlike other European countries, Spain doesn't offer aid for international distribution. 'In a global market like ours, Spanish agencies compete under unequal conditions to those of companies from other European countries,' says Luis Renart of Bendita Film Sales. 'This is a major issue that we have addressed at VICA, the association of sales agencies, and presented analysis and potential solutions,' adds Antonio Saura of Latido Films. 'The institutions have listened but have not addressed this extremely grave issue as a priority. Any country supporting their moves, and therefore their culture, has an advantage which Spain does not.' Begin Again Films' Gloria Bretones agrees, 'It is impossible to be competitive with the financing subsidies and acquisition incentives available in other countries. Two equally good films, selected at the same festival, in the same section: a French film and a Spanish film. If you buy the French film, they finance part of the P&A. If you buy the Spanish film, they don't. Which one do you buy?' she asks rhetorically. For now, Spanish sales agents will have to rely on selling what works today and hold out hope that public backing and festival recognition will return sooner rather than later. Best of Variety All the Godzilla Movies Ranked Final Oscar Predictions: International Feature – United Kingdom to Win Its First Statuette With 'The Zone of Interest' 'Game of Thrones' Filming Locations in Northern Ireland to Open as Tourist Attractions
