People

Pedro Almodóvar: 'I am afraid of death. Shooting this film was a relief".

Fresh from winning a Golden Lion for 'The Room Next Door' on euthanasia, the Spanish director talks about the set in the USA, his love for Neorealism and the music of Vanoni and Mina

by Cristina Battocletti

6' min read

6' min read

The Room Next Door, with which he won the Golden Lion at the 81st Venice Film Festival a week ago, marked a point in Pedro Almodóvar's filmography. Seventy-four years old - as he is fond of pointing out when someone rounds up, since his birthday falls on 25 September -, forty years of career, twenty-three films, an unmistakable cinematic figure for which the term almodovarian has been coined, and, before a week ago, not a shred of a Palme, Bear or Golden Lion, except that for lifetime achievement, received on the Lido in 2019. Across the Atlantic, in truth, they had celebrated his rebellious and amused genius, always sensually close to founding themes such as love and death, with two Oscars, one for Best Foreign Language Film for All About My Mother in 2000 and one for Best Screenplay for Talk to Her (2002). In Europe it had ranged from Baftas to Davids, Césars to Goyas. But the sophisticated European festivals had always relegated him to minor prizes.

He arrives with a dishevelled white mop, his hair standing on end, as always, and a red T-shirt, the colour the writer associates him with (as with Antonioni), among the many garish ones he prefers. He makes an effort to speak in Italian: 'Thank you very much. I am very tired, but I hope it doesn't affect you. I don't guarantee, however, how my brain is working now'.

Loading...

"In Italy I always feel very loved"

.

In the cinema he received a standing ovation of almost twenty minutes, but he demurred: 'Every time I come to Italy I feel very much loved'. But here it is not a matter of elective affinities between brotherly Latin countries: La stanza accanto, in theatres from 5 December, won the highest award in the Venetian palmares because it is an excellent film, on a very delicate subject, euthanasia, with a sober screenplay, written by the director himself, inspired by the book Through Life (Garzanti, 2022) by Sigrid Nunez. "It is my most restrained film," he explains, "It is from Julieta (2016 ndr) that I identify most with this form of filmmaking. Fortunately, when I was young I made very crazy films,' he laughs.

Almodóvar tapers feelings, calibrates them, there is participation but no laceration. His baroque vein, with its tragic and comic tones at once, the strong women with stubborn faces, the men in make-up, the flashy costumes and furnishings, are eclipsed to crystal-clear sculpt a message of humanity and hope. It is also Almodóvar's first film shot in English with English-speaking actors: international stars Tilda Swinton and Julianne Moore.

Swinton is Martha, a war correspondent, suffering from terminal cancer, and Ingrid, played by Moore, is a former colleague of Martha's, a renowned writer, who resumes seeing her friend as soon as she learns of her illness. The central theme is freedom: the primary right to be able to choose how to end one's life with dignity when pain makes it unbearable. "The legacy Tilda leaves Julianne is the courage to face death. I don't believe in reincarnation, in 'transferring' from one person to another. But Julianne receives from Tilda the gift of continuing her relationship with her daughter, regenerating it in the name of her friend'.

The film begins with Ingrid's signing at the Rizzoli bookstore in New York and one of the key plot moments takes place while waiting to get in to see Roberto Rossellini's Viaggio in Italia. A tribute to Italy, which probably loved him more than his own country for his grotesque and unbridled films that contributed more to the liberation and affirmation of rights, including LGBTQ+, than many philosophical currents. From the debut of Pepi, Luci, Bom and the Other Girls of the Bunch (1980) to The Indiscreet Charm of Sin (1983), to the international consecration of Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown (1988). He then moved on to a sweeter, more desperate, but no less original sentimentalism, never without irony (often with Penélope Cruz and Antonio Banderas), in Parla con lei (2002), La mala educación (2004), Volver - Tornare (2006) up to Madres paralelas (2021), about the desaparecidos at the time of the Spanish Civil War. The latter a (beautiful) film little loved in his homeland, 'where you have to fight to keep memory alive' and perhaps less understood by his fans. But here in Italy droves of worshippers are ready to fill the theatres as soon as one of its titles comes out.

"Italian culture is very present in my films. I was brought up in the 50s and 60s and the cinema I saw and the music I heard was mainly Italian. I know all the Italian pop and folk music of the 60s, which had widespread distribution in Spain. It was very fashionable. In those years, Italy had the best cinema in the world, it was on a par with the French New Wave. And, from a musical point of view, the singers were on a par with the golden age of English pop.But I liked Mina and Ornella Vanoni, who were part of my childhood'. And, in fact, on the soundtrack of Dolor y Gloria (2019) there is Pino Donaggio's Come sinfonia sung by Mina. "Cinematographically, Italian Neorealism is one of those genres that never goes out of fashion. Today, when one approaches a film genre, one tries to update it, finding new forms that make it more current. But Neorealism's way of looking at reality is universal, it still works. You can still make a neorealist film. For me, those Italian directors are extremely important. I put them in my personal film paradise'.

The fear (and inability) to accept death

.

Ingrid at Rizzoli presents the book she has just published: it is a text on the fear of dying.

"Through her character I spoke of my fear and inability to accept death. Julianne is not a believer, she does not have the support of religion. She is secular not because she is American: in the United States there is not a Catholic majority, but there are many religions and some of them are fundamentalist. Without the support of religion, death is the hardest of trials, because it is presented as something final. Julianne has written a book about sudden deaths, those that happen by accident, when, for example, you are walking down the street and a ledge falls on your head. Her book is an investigation-interview with the families of the deceased, seeking an explanation for the misfortune and at the same time a form of acceptance. That death exists we know, just turn on the television, but it continues to be an issue, which the mind cannot admit as natural. It is inexplicable that something that is alive suddenly is no more. I believe, for my part, that this struggle to get used to the end of things is a form of immaturity'.

Martha's request to Ingrid is to stay in the next room when she decides to 'self-practise' euthanasia. Ingrid has no active function, but one of simple compassion in the Latin sense of the word, 'feeling together'.

The passage between life and death takes place in a house in the woods in Woodstock. "During filming within those walls there were three of us, Tilda, Julianne and myself. But there was also a fourth guest: death. Ours was a cohabitation with her'. In the film, the fact that the bond between Martha and Ingrid is not the longest or strongest in Martha's life is very prominent. The historical friends did not want to lend themselves.

The political message: let's not forget solidarity and welcome

"The relationship between Ingrid and Martha is based on generosity. It is a message I also want to give to my government: let us not forget solidarity and welcome. I am ashamed of the right wing that wants to send the army against unaccompanied migrant minors, who have just escaped death at sea, as if they were invaders or criminals. I am not an activist, but I disagree with party politics, even those on the left. For 40 years the Spanish people were hijacked by a dictatorship. Then in the 1980s, with the movida, Spain changed, although it had changed even before Franco's death thanks to the counterculture, of which I was a part. There were many artists fighting, running the risk of being arrested by the police.

With democracy we had access to incredible freedom: it was possible to say, do and speak about everything. But since 2004 I feel in danger again, ever since Zapatero came to power after the colossal lie by the Popular Party that attributed the Atocha station attack to Eta. That was when the right showed its true, black, vicious face. Since then I have been afraid of losing freedom and fundamental rights again. I believe that at this time it is important to demonstrate and express one's ideas'. The Room Next Door is also a political film. "Martha does not deserve to be treated like a delinquent and in the end her death emerges as a vital choice, made by a conscious person, deeply in control of her own existence.

Her death is luminous, it takes place in the open air, in contact with Nature. Ingrid comes to the realisation that nothing disappears, but is transformed into spirituality. I don't make therapeutic films, nor do I make films to find solutions. The beginning of a film is always a mystery, but shooting The Room Next Door for me was a relief'.

Per approfondire

Venezia, Leone d’Oro a La Stanza accanto di Pedro Almodovar

Servizio


Copyright reserved ©
Loading...

Brand connect

Loading...

Newsletter

Notizie e approfondimenti sugli avvenimenti politici, economici e finanziari.

Iscriviti