Luis López Carrasco in Benidorm.
From director Luis López Carrasco's diary, just after finishing his film El Futuro
October 9, 2012. Benidorm.
This morning we shot the sunrise from the neon cross. It’s the first thing we’ve shot since we got to Benidorm. The fact that we shot El Futuro last week is really hitting us now, everyone is exhausted. Monolo and I have managed to convince Ion [de Sosa, director of Androids Dream and cinematographer/producer on El Futuro] to go for a swim as soon as we got there, some sort of baptism to give us a boost of energy to start the shoot. After the swim we had an English breakfast. Which means we were in a great mood to then go and wake up the rest of the crew.
Although he is shooting fiction, Ion keeps the cartesian vision from [his first film] True Love. He gives the same importance to objects and people when he is searching for the right shot. The action unfolds as if the whole plot just ‘happens to be there, passing by.’ We’ve spent the whole afternoon shooting in hotel corridors, the film seems like a archive furniture catalogue. We are documenting the ruins of the future. Every time we get to a new place, Ion systematically shoots the walls from every angle: north, east, south and west. He is a cartographer in 16mm.
Fiction is a like a glove that wraps our whole life. The personal moments Ion has documented, his family memories, will be what compose the memories of the characters in Androids Dream
. I’ve noticed the replicants have the same jobs Ion has had in the past. Ion’s autobiography is present in every corner. Every gunshot from the policeman is like a hole in that glove, a hole where distant memories escape, as well as dreams and intimate experiences that are present within the invisible layers of any creative project.
This morning I’ve asked Ion why he never shot the sea, it looked so impressive from the neon cross. He mentioned that if we never see the sea, the city where the story takes places could actually be set anywhere in the world and would be endless in terms of land and space. “Sometimes, not seeing the limit of a city can generate an even greater sense of claustrophobia. When you see the horizon, it’s like a breath of fresh air. We’re not going to show the sea in this film.”
Translated by Chiara Marañón and Tania Sutherland.