Carlos Saura redefined the way music and flamenco were represented in cinema. He dedicated a significant part of his filmography to researching and capturing different styles in films that served as an anthropological study of the music and traditions of countries such as Argentina, Portugal and, of course, Spain. Fados, Tango either Flamenco… but also hybrid proposals that attempted to blur the boundaries between fiction and non-fiction such as Carmen either blood marriageIn each of them, he explores the cinematographic language in search of a twinning between cinema and flamenco that gives rise to some of the most beautiful scenes of Spanish musical cinema, as well as a paradigmatic staging when recording the performances.
It is obvious that there is something of Saura in the first film of C. Tangana, who signs this work under the name of Antón Álvarez. The flamenco guitar of Yerai Cortés ―presented in the New Directors section of the San Sebastian Festival― is a musical documentary that follows the guitarist and introduces numbers and performances where he explores new ways of showing them, but based on the guidelines set by the director of Raising crows in his cinema. In a way, Tangana has invoked his spirit, as he has made an excellent debut, where the performances are captured in vibrant sequence shots and with a use of direct sound that is thrilling.
When they talk to him about Saura, he smiles. He accepts the legacy, but also clarifies that his film “has the spirit of being a response to Saura” rather than an imitation. “For me, he is a great teacher and thanks to him and his vision, I had a glimpse of deep flamenco. But it is a somewhat foreign look, like the one I had and the one I still have a little, because I am not so much a fan of flamenco. What we tried, basically, thanks to an explanation of flamenco that Yerai gave me, is to show the other side. For Saura to be able to do all this show, we have to understand that there is another way of experiencing flamenco that is on the other side and that is built inside so that later you can go on stage and see it as magnificent,” he said. argues.
They tried to “show this other way of feeling and living it.” And for this, the excellent use of direct sound and “that they are handheld shots, without cuts” were also essential. “The heart of the film is that we let the world into flamenco and we don’t isolate it or perfect it. We don’t comb his hair before he goes on stage. On the contrary, it’s quite the opposite,” he emphasizes.
The flamenco guitar of Yerai Cortés It is also a matryoshka that shows its layers as it progresses. Yerai’s story eventually gives way to that of her parents, separated, and to the secret that marked her childhood and her present that she will eventually reveal as if it were a thriller. But what really strikes you inside are his reflections on trauma and identity. Tangana, or Álvarez, asks himself with his film whether the cliché that deep wounds are the key to creation is not false, and whether it should not be refocused and think that it is art and creation that help to heal.
“I don’t believe in this myth of the cursed artist,” he says forcefully, and adds another lapidary sentence: “It only harms young teenagers who want to do things. I believe in honest people who tell the truth, not in the truth in the scientific sense, but I believe that the best moment of an artist is in those little moments of lucidity, those little moments in which we accept ourselves and say: this is who I am. That’s when we tell things that normally have to do with trauma, important things. I don’t know if it helps you heal or if it makes you a better creator, but what I do know is that with this film we have changed something. Things that were worse are now a little better.”
The identity of the moment
The other theme of the film is identity, and this is where filmmaker and protagonist merge. Both find themselves searching for their own and in no man’s land. Yerai returns to his family, to the gypsy community, and tries to integrate among them. He makes the return trip when he returns to the city with his partner. Tangana also dives between two worlds. The neighborhood and fame. It was when they finished the film that they realized that the film had finished talking about that, but for him “identity is a question of our time.”
I thought I was a rapper when I was 14, I didn’t mind. I guess for Yerai, it’s also a question. Of course, identity is one of the issues of our time.
C. Tangana
— Musician and filmmaker
“I think it’s because we are a generation that grew up with globalization. I thought I was a rapper when I was 14, imagine. I didn’t have the chotis. I guess for Yerai it’s also an important question. Of course, identity is one of the issues of our time and, even if I don’t think I talk about it, it ends up coming out, because it’s in the background. There’s a constant search,” says Tangana and passes the baton to the guitarist who believes that this theme is present all the time, even in music: “When I get together with people, I think about how they play; and when I get together with others, I think about what makes others cry, because it’s not the same. So where do you position yourself and what do you take away from each site? I think identity is a very beautiful question, because it pushes you to search all the time.
For Yerai Cortés, this documentary was a way of introducing himself to his family. “I wanted to tell them, ‘Listen, I’ve been away from home for a long time, I’ve had many upbringings and I want you to know me as I am when I’m not with you.’ Because it’s true that when I’m with them, or depending on the place, there’s a beautiful contagion, I become a chameleon and I want to be like them to feel accepted. So I always needed to tell that to see how they saw me. I say it all the time in the film, that what I want is to be loved. It doesn’t mean that they didn’t love me before, but I want them to accept me, to see all these changes in a positive way,” he says.
He laughs when he talks about how many times he felt that modesty won out, “thousands,” he says with a smile that confirms what surprised Tangana when she first met him: “How discreet he was. Flamenco emotions are not usually discreet. Flamenco has this histrionic thing of strong emotion, which I love, but Yerai has no problem being behind it, slowly, and that caught my attention a lot.
