Art and culture Jesús Huarte
By:

Entrevistamos a Francesco Carril

The actor reunites with Isabel Coixet in Tres Adioses, a deeply moving film about love, death and the urgency of living without fear, based on a book by writer and activist Michela Murgia, in which Francesco performs in Italian for the first time

Text by Jesús Huarte and photos by Juanjo Molina.

Make-up & hair: María Andrés Bravo and photography assistant: Belén Trillo. Acknowledgements: Urso Hotel & Spa.

"Tres adioses", which has just premiered in Spain, is inspired by the final book written by Michela Murgia before her death. Had you read any of her work before?

No, I became familiar with her through this project. Afterwards I read the short stories on which the film is based, but it was thanks to Isabel (Coixet) that I really came to understand many aspects of her work and her life.

You had already worked with Isabel Coixet—how did she invite you to take part in this project?

She thought of me for the role of this philosophy professor. The character was almost non-existent in the novel, much smaller, and she wrote and developed it with me in mind. We had worked together on Un amor and had understood each other very well.

How important is your relationship with the team when it comes to choosing a project?

Very important. For me, the human side of the team is essential. I don’t necessarily need to know people beforehand—actually, I really enjoy working with new collaborators—but it does matter to me that the experience is not only artistically rewarding, but also enriching on a personal level.

Although your mother is from Pisa and you spent summers in Tuscany as a child, you had never acted in Italian before. From an acting point of view, was it different from working in Spanish?

Yes, because it’s a language I had never associated with work or with acting. It was a curious experience, because I built the character almost without being fully aware of it, thanks to everything the language itself was giving me. Italian has a different musicality, and I even think something in the tone of my voice changes when I work in Italian. Working in a language that is partly new to me gave me a great sense of freedom.

"Tres adioses" deals with death, yet it leaves you with an overwhelming desire to live. How do you manage to convey such a positive message from such a difficult subject?

I think Isabel is far more interested in life than in death, and above all she is a director who is not solemn. When solemnity disappears, it creates space for irony, humour and beauty. That’s when things can really begin to move you.

Agostini is a character who brings a great deal of light into the dark moment Marta is going through. What is the most beautiful thing you discovered about him?

He’s someone with an enormous capacity for wonder. Marta is a mystery to him, something to be unravelled, and I’m very drawn to Agostini’s moment in life: that sense of a possible beginning, even the first stirrings of falling in love.

You had followed Alba Rohrwacher’s career and, just as Agostini is fascinated by Marta, you admired her work. What was it like working with her?

She’s an actress unlike any other, and I love that. There’s something very distinctive, very much her own. She’s demanding, yet at the same time she has no problem sharing her insecurity, her fears, and also the things that excite her. I found her to be a generous actress. I increasingly believe that actors who are simple and generous people in life are, more often than not, very good actors too.

Although it was filmed in Rome, "Tres adioses" does not show the city’s monumental side. What role does the city play in the film?

The film isn’t a love letter to a city, and the Rome we see is Isabel’s Rome—the Rome she likes. It’s true that it’s a very unrecognisable Rome. What we see are details that Isabel loves: a peeling wall, small Madonnas, little Virgin figures… It’s funny, because Isabel used to say, half-jokingly, “I’ve portrayed certain places in Rome that aren’t very well known, and I’m afraid people might start going there.” 

I think gastronomy also feels very much like Isabel. There are wonderful scenes, like Alba eating an ice cream, and even lines such as the one Agostini says: “We are what we eat.” What does that phrase mean to you?

A great deal, because it goes far beyond food. It has to do with self-care, with how we speak to ourselves and how we treat ourselves. Food—eating well—is very important to Isabel, and gastronomy appears in many of her works. But the phrase “we are what we eat” also speaks to how we look at ourselves and relate to who we are.

Has the film, with its message of “you still have time”, left a mark on you?

Yes, it has left a lasting impression, both in terms of my personal experience making the film and how I felt working with Alba, returning to work with Isabel, and spending those days in Rome. It was a shoot that really made me want to keep making films, because it’s impossible to work with Isabel and not fall in love with cinema or feel the urge to do more. The film also gave me a great sense of hope, and a strong awareness of how fortunate I was to be part of a project like this—one that enriched me so deeply on a personal level.