Pa'trás ni para tomar impulso

‘PA’TRÁS, NI PA’TOMAR IMPULSO’: MARTA ESTEBAN BARING HER SOUL

We talk to Marta Esteban, who usually produces Cesc Gay’s work. She is behind this small —yet big— film, a story about emotional reconstruction that mixes reality and fiction, and that is entrusted to the lead’s endless energy, Carmen Mesa.

Marta Esteban founded the production company Imposible Films 20 years ago, crossing paths with Cesc Gay. This professional ‘love at first sight’ developed into a creative team without many cracks. They have produced seven feature films —from Krampack to the newly released Sentimental and the award-winning Truman— and a TV series —Félix, for Movistar—, and they have a project in sight —the feature film Historias para no contar—, that is kind of immediate.

This talkative, caustic, and funny Barcelonian has many flight hours on her back (she has worked with other filmmakers, such as Alain Tanner, Ken Loach, Maria Ripoll, or Joaquín Oristrell). During the 1980s, she filmed short distance documentaries in Peru, where she lived for some years. The spirit of those works and many others —such as Y se hace el silencio (1977) or Lucre (1983)— connect with her new adventure. Pa’trás, ni pa’tomar impulso (a typical Spanish expression that means: don’t even think about going back) is one of the crowning jewels of the section New Waves and Seville Festival 2020’s program. ‘I am really happy with the results. It is an emotional, humanist film that brings up energy and good vibes.’

We talk to the production company about the film it presents to the Seville Festival —a story about women filmed by women. Lupe García Pérez, who is devoted to the project, is the director of the film. Esteban had produced one of her documentaries before, Diario argentino, which won the Prix du Jeune Public at the Visions du Réel festival. The film’s driving force, lighthouse and raison d’être is a force of nature called Carmen Mesa. She is a flamenco dancer from Córdoba who has been fascinated by the Andes since she was a child. Mesa dreamt about taking flamenco to the most remote places in Argentina. No sooner said than done —she embarked on a new journey. Destiny wanted Mesa and Esteban to cross paths on the other side of the pond. The rest is history.

‘When I first met her, I could not believe what was happening. Carmen was stepping off a bus with a big suitcase, in which she was carrying her shoes and her tailed gown to dance flamenco. After having been on the road for 25 hours, she had a smile on her face. I had done a stop in Argentina on my way to Peru to visit a friend who knew her, and she introduced her to me. Carmen’s idea was to tell her experience from one place to another, going across Argentina. She wanted to create something with all those experiences. She taught flamenco and played, where she could, her play Yo me lo guiso, yo me lo como. In the play, she cooked her mother’s “pollo al ajillo” (classic Spanish garlic chicken) and then gave it to the audience. She had acquaintances, friends, and family everywhere. They hosted her and organized her classes and plays to make ends meet. That was shocking to me,’ the producer remembers. ‘I knew I wanted to make a film.’


 

Esteban also tells us about his fascination with Mesa. He says: “Her story is like life itself, full of ups and downs. Carmen is freedom, nothing and nobody stops her. Lupe, the director, said “I thought I was free until I met Carmen.” She is right. She reminded me of the protagonists of that film by Fernando Fernán-Gómez, Voyage to Nowhere. She is like them, people who put all their energy in the journey, in the walk, and who have someone to pick them up in every place they step.’

Pa’trás, ni pa’tomar impulso combines fiction and reality with an extraordinary naturalness. Esteban affirms: ‘There are some fictional parts, yes, but most of what is told has happened to Carmen, so we recreated it for the film. Many other things came up during the filming. We met incredible people; many of them appear in the film and have crossed paths in Carmen’s life. There is a lot of wonderful material that has arrived in the cutting room. However, we had to focus because it is essential to know what we want to tell.’

From Carmen Mesa to Cesc Gay, and vice versa

With a cinema release scheduled for next 20th November, Marta Esteban will have two films on the billboard in a hard moment. Like everyone, she is a victim of the awful pandemic. Some weeks ago she premiered Sentimental, her new film with Cesc Gay. Sentimental is a bitter comedy starring Javier Cámara, Griselda Siciliani, Belén Cuesta, and Alberto San Juan. Despite the situation, Marta is happy with the result: ‘The film is going well, taking into account that cinemas are closed in Catalonia. I think people want to escape from reality around us, and they have realized that they will have a good time with the film, which is what they actually need.’

We take this opportunity to ask her about the professional relationship with Cesc Gay. It seems to be a bombproof film marriage that has given fruitful and excellent results. ‘We have a relationship based on trust, on the respect that each one has for the other. For example, I don’t step on the filming, I don’t get into that territory. Each one of us knows their place perfectly. We know each other very well after 20 years of relationship,’ Marta says. She continues by describing the Catalonian filmmaker: ‘He thinks and reflects on everything a lot, which explains why we make a film every three years. He needs to take his time and prepare every project so much. Over time, we have improved in our trade and have learned to be very concrete, to film what we want to film. Cesc rehearses a lot because he is actually a great director of actors. When he turns on the camera, he already knows the text very well.’

To finish the interview, Marta gives advice as a wise and battle-hardened producer, which surprises the journalist. She says: ‘I always try to premiere my film a week after the time change. Why? Because it gets dark before. When there is natural light, people go out and don’t frequent cinemas much. If you have the chance to drink a beer on the street, would you rather stay inside a cinema?’