From this Friday the 10th to Wednesday the 15th of May, in the Gaumont Cinema (Avenida Rivadavia 1635) with daily performances at 8:45 p.m., you can enjoy the premiere of “The doors of Taquimilán”.
Footnote interviewed the director and screenwriter of the film, Eduardo Spagnuolo who explained the meaning of the title, what is the message behind this story and if a possible sequel could be carried out.
-How was “Las Puertas Taquimilán” born and what does its title refer to?
– The Gates of Taquimilán has a first beginning, which has to do with my interest in the Conquest of the Desert and using a narrative resource of putting two characters face to face with the antagonistic positions that this topic raises, two representatives of two opposing cultures such as the Mapuche and the Western one.
Which had to live together and, from the inevitable confrontations and the forced coexistence, they learned to listen to each other and, by dint of respect and affection, generate a friendship that could bring those ends of the rift closer together.
But that seemed to me only the beginning that led me to want to know where it was taking me, then I found out about the existence of the Magic Town or Ghost Town of Taquimilán, a town in Neuquén where, for many years, with certain meteorological conditions, it has emerged in the air, against the mountains of the cordillera, and without any explanation, a town. It has houses, doors, windows, no one knows where it comes from and where it goes after floating for a few minutes.
The questions of whether there is more than one universe or if time were not linear led me to the Mapuche worldview and death with entry to those other possible worlds. And thus arises the past of Ceferinoa Mapuche lawyer who became the driver of the truck that takes Martín, a yuppie from Buenos Aires, to tour the towns that emerged from the line of Roca forts.
Their friendship on that trip and, many years later, Ceferino’s need for his friend to take him to Taquimilán to cross one of the doors of the magical town and reunite with his ancestors.
-What is the message of this story?
The message is summarized in a question that heads the poster: What if time was not linear? What if all our rational, technological and Western knowledge could not respond to the magic of life, to the mysterious, to the impossible to think but very possible to intuit?
The message, in a less poetic key, would be, let’s open our heads, but there is much more in the world around us than we believe. And it is there for us to discover and celebrate.
-Why does Ceferino have such a crossroads between life and death?
Ceferino had a heart condition resulting from the stress of his time as a successful lawyer, before dedicating himself to defending his brothers when he recognized, and accepted, his Mapuche origins.
Back then they opened him like a chick to operate on him, now he had a relapse and they have to operate on him again. He doesn’t want that, even though the surgeon is his daughter who wants to save his life.
Ceferino feels that it is his time to leave this world, and he claims his right to choose his death, just as he once chose his life, since for his ancestral beliefs life and death are part of the same future.
-On the other hand, are you planning a sequel or second part? And finally, what expectations do you have for its release?
In this very funny question, at the end of filming the actors, the director of Imagen and I, began to imagine a second part about Ceferino in that ghost town, and the daughter along with Martin trying to connect with him crossing time and space.
I would love to follow the story, but in these moments that Argentine cinema is experiencing, I am satisfied and I am happy to be releasing it, but, perhaps time is not linear and perhaps, in some future, we will return to making films without so many restrictions.
My expectations are that people go to the cinema, that they see Argentine cinema, that they support this manifestation of a different cinema, our own, ours; presenting on Friday the 10th at 8:45 p.m., when the screening starts the room is full and we all shout a quiet but deep cry: Long live Argentine cinema!
