The rising star of Spanish cinema discusses being orphaned at six, new feature Romería and why she always works with children
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amily reunions in European arthouse cinema are almost always unhappy events, on a scale of strife that ranges from simmering resentment (Louis Malle’s Milou in May) to spectacular score-settling (Thomas Vinterberg’s Festen). There are still splatters of bad blood on the Sunday best in the films of Carla Simón, but the Spanish director has a rare gift: she makes you leave the cinema with renewed faith that having relatives and keeping in touch with them may actually be a wonderful thing.
Indeed no film-maker working in Europe now is as capable of turning birthday gatherings, garden parties or poolside barbecues into thrillingly sprawling canvases of human virtue and vice as this 39-year-old rising star. From a riotous water fight in the Berlinale Golden Bear-winning farming drama Alcarràs to a foul-mouthed dinner table singalong in her new film Romería, Simón directs kinship meetings with the attention to detail that other film-makers may invest in action sequences or dance routines.
Among the tricks Simón employs, she explains, is to ensure her actors only read the script once before the camera starts rolling, so they have to improvise to fill the gaps. She takes her casts to parties, for walks and on shopping trips, and if there are disagreements on the way, so much the better. The ultimate secret sauce, though, is to ignore WC Fields’s notorious advice and always work with children and animals.
