The Saraqusta Film Festival presents today, on International Music and Dance Day, the documentary Antonio, el Bailarín de España (Antonio, the Dancer of Spain). It is the story of a man who left an indelible mark on 20th-century Spanish dance, an artist who had the world at his feet but who, like so many other great Spanish talents, ended his life in ostracism and oblivion. Paco Ortiz brings him back to life in this documentary, which also highlights Andalusian culture and identity.
When did you discover your love for cinema?
From a young age, I was curious about how movies were made, and that led me to study Audiovisual Communication. When I graduated, I spent my early career working in television because that’s where there was more work, until the opportunity to make a documentary came my way, and I never looked back. Since then, I’ve combined other jobs with documentary filmmaking, but in recent years we’ve been making a living solely from documentaries produced by my own production company, “Sarao.” Among the most diverse projects we’ve done, the most common are biographical documentaries.
Why did you choose to tell Antonio’s story?
I came across Antonio, as often happens, by chance, when I read an article about his life. It was the centenary of his birth and a conference was being held, and that led me, as I have a special interest in biography, to want to know more about him. He wasn’t entirely unknown to me, as many of our documentaries had been about flamenco, but I didn’t know much about him either, and when I started researching, I discovered what a great character he was. He lived in South America at the beginning of his career, then in the United States, danced on Broadway, made films in Hollywood, and then returned to Spain after the war. Despite starting from scratch, he was also successful. That left me completely baffled. He is a man who never stops growing, he is on an upward trajectory, reaching the highest levels of success in our country and beyond our borders. He was massively acclaimed internationally, in France and Great Britain; he even danced at the White House. He was the first Spanish artist to perform in the Soviet Union, when Spain had no diplomatic relations with them. He is an incredible figure and, for that reason, he deserves to be rescued in this documentary for future generations.
You are both Andalusian. What has it meant for you to have the opportunity to tell the story of an artist from your homeland?
It is very important to me. Andalusia has a remarkable film industry, and there are highly skilled companies and professionals. I think it’s more than interesting that we are the ones telling our stories with our own voices, with our accents, with what touches us most closely. Here we also have the case of Víctor Ullate, a dancer from Zaragoza who is related to Antonio, and now Elena Cid, who is also from Zaragoza, has made a documentary about him. I think we should do that everywhere. People don’t have to come from outside to tell our stories; we have to do it ourselves, those of us who know them.
Promotional poster for Antonio, el Bailarín de España (Antonio, the Dancer of Spain)
Why do you prefer the documentary format over biographical fiction?
It’s true that the stories we’ve told could easily be feature films; in fact, we’ve sometimes included a small fictionalized part in our documentaries, such as in Algo Salvaje, Bambino, or Aníbal, el arquitecto de Sevilla. But fiction is much more expensive to make. Besides, documentaries are not only less expensive, they also have an educational component in that they teach us who that person was. There are many biographical films, but we really like this type of documentary, which is a mixture of fiction and documentary.
How do you usually research before making a documentary about a historical figure?
As we tend to be interested in more classic characters, we mainly turn to books that have been written about them. Now there is also a lot of research published on the Internet, which has made the whole process much easier. In addition, personal interviews with people who knew the figure we are going to talk about, or with researchers who have studied their life, are essential. In Antonio’s case, I discovered that there were two very similar books, one more fictionalized and the other more raw, based on interviews a journalist had done with him in 1983 or 1984, fifteen years before his death. Then I found that, in addition to the books, those interviews had been published on audio cassette. So I felt the need to find those tapes, because I knew that they would contain Antonio’s voice narrating his life, and I thought it would be very interesting for the documentary to feature him, and not other people, recounting the most remarkable moments of his life, accompanied by the testimonies of people who knew him, journalists, researchers, but with his own voice as the narrative thread.
In relation to what you say, I imagine it must have been very special to be in contact with people who knew Antonio, such as Carmen Rojas and Antonio Canales.
It has been very emotional, mainly because everyone speaks of Antonio with affection and deep respect. It’s true that he was a character with a huge ego and very strict discipline, but even so, everyone said he was a loving and endearing person, and this has been confirmed by people who were close to him, both personally and professionally, and whom we are still lucky enough to be able to interview. I’ve made many documentaries about many artists, but I think Antonio is one of the most fascinating characters I’ve encountered so far.
Were you also able to meet Antonio’s family?
From the moment you decide to embark on a project like this, it’s important to get the family’s approval, to convey your interest and how you want to tell the story. Of course, when the documentary was finished, they saw it at a private screening and were very satisfied and happy with the work we had done. That’s also important to us, that they feel comfortable with how we’ve portrayed Antonio’s life.
“The political and sexual ambiguity he maintained for many years of his life led to his ostracism, which, in my opinion and that of many others, was undeserved.”
What do you hope to convey to the audience? Especially to an audience that is not so familiar with Antonio or Andalusian culture.
I always try not to address a specialized audience. I didn’t do it with architecture in the case of Aníbal, or with rumba in the case of Bambino, or with flamenco or copla in the case of Poveda; nor do I want it to be the case with dance in the case of Antonio. For me, it’s a story of overcoming adversity, of a poor child who achieves success, reaches the height of fame, but then suffers a fall into hell, like so many Greek tragedies, like Icarus, who flies and wants to reach the sun, melting his wings and falling. It’s a universal story, the rise and fall of a great star, which touches and moves us all, because it’s a story we’ve seen many times in art, only this time it’s real life, and that makes it even more interesting.
What have you learned from making this documentary and learning more about Antonio?
More than learning, I have confirmed something I already knew: in this country, we often don’t know how to value our children. A colleague once said that in this country we bury people very well, but we forget them even better, and it’s very true. There are great artists who have been forgotten by history, while others have received recognition they don’t deserve. I think that in Antonio’s case, it’s more than evident that the political and sexual ambiguity he maintained for many years of his life led to his ostracism, which, in my opinion and that of many others, was undeserved. This has also taught me that these figures deserve to be vindicated and valued. It is something I have done with other artists throughout my career and, in Antonio’s case, we are once again working to ensure that future generations know that much of what is done in this country, in the world of dance, today comes from what Antonio sowed in his time.
What other figures would you like to tell the story of?
There are things I would like to tell and I don’t know yet if I will be able to, but I can say that my next project is the story of Miguel Benítez, who was the singer and frontman of the band Los Delincuentes, which is still active. Again, it’s an Andalusian story, but in this case focused on rock, on a very precocious boy with boundless talent, but who left us too soon, at only 21 years old. Therefore, it’s also a challenge to make a documentary about him.
What does it mean to you to be nominated at a historical film festival like the Saraqusta Film Festival?
I think it’s great. First, because it’s being held to coincide with World Dance Day, which is today, and I can’t think of a better date to present this documentary. Second, because biographical documentaries are also historical, they are stories of people who are relevant. Not everything historical is from the Middle Ages or the Romans; there are also recent stories, and I really like and am very interested in this part of history and these names from the last century in Spain. It’s a great festival. We had a wonderful experience last year as producers with the documentary Marisol, which won three awards, and we have very fond memories of our time here. I hope Antonio is also well received, but in the end, the awards aren’t the most important thing. What matters is that people enjoy it and, above all, that it spreads and that Antonio’s story becomes known, that people begin to value artists beyond their ideology or circumstances, so that this can be a much better country through culture. The more people know his story and the history of his country, the less doomed it will be to repeat it.
