When Antonio Flores died two weeks after his mother Lola Flores passed away, Alba stopped singing. Thirty years later, the actor goes back to find her father, to ask her family all the questions she never dared to ask and to find her voice anew. The documentary feature Flores para Antonio is a journey into the memory and legacy of one of Spain’s most important musicians. Directed by Elena Molina and Isaki Lacuesta, it recently premiered at San Sebastián Film Festival’s Official Section out of competition. It will debut in cinemas on 28 November and will come exclusively to Movistar Plus+ in early 2026.

When did you feel like you were ready to tell your father’s story?

I think it has to do with maturity, with being older than he was when he died. And also with having found stability as a professional and as an artist. Not only because I have my own identity, but also because I’ve got the tools to tell the story in my own way and not depend on others to tell it for me.

What will the audience see in Flores para Antonio?

It’s the portrait of an artist who, I think, was important to this country’s music scene. And it also shows the connection with his daughter, who is able to relate to him in a true, transparent and profound way through family testimonies, songs, art, images... In reality, it is a daughter’s search for her father.

 

It also portrays you. Were you ready for that?

No, I wanted to make a film about my father, but Isaki and Elena were convinced that it had to be through my eyes. I felt overwhelmed, but I understood that, as a daughter, I am my father’s legacy and it wasimportant that it appeared that way in order to honour him and portray him. I told myself, “OK, if we’re goingto do it this way, I’ll dive in and give all of myself,” because I didn’t want to do it halfway or put on a mask. I wanted to do it with authenticity. It was a leap of faith towards a process that was going to change me for the rest of my life, and that’s how it was. The film has been a way of me finding myself again. I did the mourning that I didn’t do at the time.

Were your family waiting for you to tell this story?

There’s been a lot of respect for my path and for me to find my own way to process what was happening to me.

Some of your father’s friends, including Joaquín Sabina and Ariel Rot, also share some of their experiences with him in the movie. What was it like to discover that side of your father?

It was just really nice. I’m proud that my father was a good friend to his friends. He understood friendship in a very beautiful way and he loved and let himself be loved very much by that circle of friends and artistic colleagues. I really identify with him in that regard.

 

What else did you find out about yourself in him?

A lot of things, and I’m constantly discovering more. Many doors have opened to me, but something very deep I identify with is a kind of very great love of freedom, of a very spiritual freedom. And, at the same time, giving a lot of love. He was very loving, very affectionate, and I like to resemble him in that way.

Your parents’ love story, do you see it differently as an adult?

Yes, it’s very different when you see your parents as young people, even younger than you. It gives you the opportunity to distance yourself more. And I’ve noticed that I like my parents. I think they’re really nice. I ‘fangirl’ – as people say nowadays – and I ‘ship’ them so much. In this film, I fell a little bit in love with them as a couple. I feel that, if I had met them then, at the same age, they would have been my friends.

The film speaks clearly about addictions.

I’ve suffered that stigma. And anyone who experienced it as a child at school knows how cruel it was iF your family is associated with it. It always hurts a lot and I never understood it, just as I don’t understand anti-Roma prejudice. In my family, there was a less judgmental view towards everything outside of it, and I wanted to do something that would break taboos and destigmatise, that would approach the subject with love, compassion and knowledge. If we hadn’t addressed it, it would have felt strange, since it was well known. But it was also important to do it in a way that ensured it didn’t define my father’s identity. And that’s very important for everyone dealing with stigma: your entire identity does not revolve around it. You can have a drug problem and still be a good parent.

Music is essential in Flores for Antonio. Was it difficult to choose the songs?

It was a real struggle; many songs were left out, and it hurts us every day. But the story had to lead, and we put ourselves at its service. The most important thing was to make a good film, and then, if the film inspires people to explore my father’s entire discography, that’ll be wonderful.

Of all the songs that were left out, which one hurts the most?

La Estrella, which is my favourite song; I listened to it a lot as a child. Alba is the song he wrote for me publicly. But I know he wrote La Estrella for me too and I’ve used it more like a lullaby. I even did a process with it so I could sing my father’s songs.

The film shows why you never wanted to sing. Is it something you might consider now?

This film has given me the ability to relate to singing in a personal way, with joy and freedom. It’s a gift that it has given me. But precisely because I come from having experienced it with so much conflict, I need to be very careful with the place I’m in now; I don’t want to impose demands or expectations on myself. I want to keep relating to it this way and, if things flow and happen naturally, then wonderful.

And now, as you asked your mother, do you feel at peace?

Yes, absolutely. I feel more serene, more at peace, freer, more complete. It’s been a very positive factor in my life.