CURATED BY Dario Di Mella
I saw the film at Venice 83 and liked it very much. I was struck by the way you managed to tell a highly ironic and grotesque story that at the same time addresses very important themes and leaves room for deeper reflection. How did the Mexican project Hombre al agua come about?
It all began in 2023, when Piero Messina asked me to shoot his second film, Another End, starring Gael García Bernal alongside Renate Reinsve. The screenplay was wonderful, the opportunity to do good work was a unique one, and I wanted to give it my very best. During the weeks of shooting I was particularly focused: I remember that every day, after the set, I would go home, watch the dailies and prepare for the following day with great dedication. When I’m shooting, I don’t become too familiar with the actors: I tend not to engage in conversation beyond the directions connected with the scene. It’s my way of respecting them and ‘protecting’ them from the noise and distractions of the set. With Gael there was an immediate understanding, I would say a silent one, throughout all ten weeks of shooting. When the film was presented at the Berlin Film Festival, we met again and, during the party, we got to know each other better.
I told him that, if he ever had a project or an idea he wanted to pursue in the future, I would be very happy to help in any way I could. He knew that I had already worked in Latin America and that, for two years, I had run a small independent production company in Havana. A few months later, we met again in Bologna, on the occasion of the release of Another End for its theatrical release. After the screening, as we were walking through Piazza Maggiore, he asked me to go to Mexico to shoot his film! And it happened in Bologna, the very city where everything had begun for me: DAMS, my first experiences on set, short films and documentaries shot on MiniDV. Finding myself there again after so many years, in that square, with the lead actor from a film I had loved, Amores perrosand to receive an offer like that felt like a wonderful closing of the circle. A few months later, I left for Mexico for the first location scouts.
What was it like to work together again on this film in a completely different relationship, with Gael simultaneously acting as producer, director and performer? And how did your professional relationship change in moving from Another End to this project?
The fact that Gael had to direct the film while also playing the lead, and was therefore on screen almost all the time, could have been a limitation. In my view, however, it made all the difference: it pushed us to prepare extremely thoroughly, with long video calls between Mexico and Italy, reading and discussing the screenplay together at a pace of three or four scenes a day. With a director, I always try to establish a relationship based on strong creativity and mutual trust. I listen, I try to be discreet when putting forward my ideas, and I try to protect the film they have worked on for so long to bring to life. With Gael, that trust was especially important, because on set he also needed to be able to devote himself to the character, knowing that the work we had done together would remain our point of reference.
Did you work through it systematically?
Yes, scene by scene. During our long conversations, we began to establish the rules and the language of the film. The screenplay was complex, with many characters, and there was something hypnotic and mysterious in the story that we had to discover and convey. One of the best things about making films in Mexico is that preparation is real preparation. Gael asked me to arrive five weeks before the start of shooting. Even though we had already defined almost everything during our long calls, he wanted me to be there throughout. A great many meetings take place during prep: each head of department presents their proposal to the director and to all the other departments.
Is that their usual way of working?
I think so: it seemed to be an established practice. Each department presents its ideas and, through the observations and suggestions of the others, the proposal is gradually enriched. It’s a good method because, by the time you get to the set, every department is genuinely in tune with the others. Another very effective and curious part of the process is the script reading. The first read-through takes place without constant interruptions. Each head of department lends their voice to one of the characters, while the assistant director reads the stage directions. It’s a particular experience, and one that helps create a sense of the group. The reading lasts several hours, with a lunch break. At the end, everyone stays together, drinks arrive and the conversation about the film continues. I have to say that Mexicans who work in cinema have a respect for their craft that goes beyond the purely professional dimension.
Mexican cinema, after all, has been going through an extraordinary period for several years now.
Yes, and you can feel that on set. I think the strong result we achieved on Hombre al agua came precisely from a very powerful collective dimension, and that comes through. We shot in just five weeks — three in Yucatán and two in Mexico City — dealing with many difficulties, including the extreme heat, the humidity and the invasion of insects. I was very struck by Gael’s ability to deal with those challenges. Making a film in so little time, in those locations, with so many actors, while also playing the lead, was a huge undertaking. And yet he never lost his patience or his composure: he remained extraordinarily clear-headed throughout. Beyond his professional qualities as a director and actor, I complimented him many times precisely on his human qualities. He explained to me that what allowed him to remain so calm was the fact that he was also the lead actor. He couldn’t afford to become irritated or lose patience, because he would have carried those tensions into the character and compromised his performance.
By protecting the character, he ended up protecting the entire set.
Yes.
One interesting aspect of the film is that it actually contains several different films within it…
It’s a black comedy that at times veers into the surreal. There’s what we used to call the main film, Hombre al aguaWithin it, there is a black-and-white Brazilian telenovela that Camilo, the protagonist, watches on television during his sleepless nights. It tells the story of Lula during the trade-union struggles and his time in prison. Fabiana, played by Debora NascimentoFabiana, played by [name], is the actress in the telenovela and also the protagonist of the film that Camilo’s wife is making about her own life. Meanwhile, at the factory owned by Camilo’s billionaire father-in-law, the workers decide to make a documentary about their working conditions. Then there are videos from an election campaign and an animated film that Camilo himself makes and screens in the final sequence. It’s a truly original and very distinctive film, and I think it works precisely because it moves between different narratives while managing to hold them together within a single work.
What struck me most was the film’s aesthetic: it is extremely refined, at times almost painterly. On many occasions, you managed to construct what are almost tableaux through light and framing. And yet this visual research never seems to impose itself on the story: somehow it disappears into the film, and we end up perceiving it as completely natural. How did you develop this aesthetic, and what visual references did you start from?
Well, first of all, thank you for saying that. I’m glad it comes through in the film. The 4:3 format and the architecture of Yucatán encouraged us to compose the scenes almost like paintings. The idea of the frame, of the picture within the picture, recurs at several points in the film. In the scene where Fabiana is rehearsing in the courtyard, one of my favourites, you see her inside a frame that contains another frame, and then another one beyond that.
In the factory, Camilo’s office is a cube, and the characters are always surrounded by a rectangular frame. And the same is true of many other scenes. In this way, the frame, the enclosing image, tries to convey the protagonist’s inability to escape the box he has been placed in. The photographic atmosphere had to express the film’s apparent calm, its mystery, that sort of limbo or sense of estrangement in which Camilo finds himself. I chose a soft, diffused light that would allow the characters to move more freely within the space.
I didn’t want to constrain the actors to a specific light source, a precise backlight or a particular edge light. In the daytime scenes, the contrast is never excessive. In the night scenes, however, I returned to my usual low-key approach, respecting Gael’s request not to overdo it. I remember that on Another End, one day, moving around in the darkness of the set, he asked me whether we were shooting a film or a podcast! With the colours, we decided to move away from those generally associated with Mexico and Yucatán. I wondered more than once whether the decision to entrust the cinematography to a European was also connected to the desire to achieve a different aesthetic. In fact, Hombre al agua it doesn’t look like a typically Mexican film. We tried to create a neutral, harmonious and elegant visual world, while reserving a more pronounced chiaroscuro for the more dramatic scenes. Of course, good cinematography is always the result of collective work. The locations played a decisive role, as did the exceptional work of the production designer, Sandra Cabriada and the costume designer Mariestela FernándezA complete understanding developed between us.
You shot in 4:3. Did Gael explain why he wanted to use this format? Did he have any specific references in mind?
I couldn’t say for certain. Gael is a very kind person, and he respects the artistic sensibilities of his collaborators so deeply that at times I felt he didn’t want to fully explain his own motivations, so as not to intrude on someone else’s creative space. The 4:3 format was a firm choice, one he never questioned. He showed me a number of cinematic references, including Tabu by Miguel Gomes and the Cuban film Memorias del subdesarrollo by Tomás Gutiérrez Alea, both in 4:3. I only became convinced that it was the right format after scouting the locations in Yucatán and looking at the architecture of the haciendas, the large estates with their residences where part of the story would be set. The rooms, large doorways and arches developed vertically, helping air circulate in extremely hot places. The 4:3 format captured that verticality very well.
This format also led me to think differently about the staging. I was concerned about the many ensemble scenes: I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to fit all the characters into the frame, especially since we wanted to avoid breaking the scenes up too much. So we tried to build a staging in which the characters could move freely and the camera, also through the use of the zoom combined with the dolly, could follow the development of the action. In addition, watching other films in 4:3, I had noticed that in dialogue scenes the foreground tends to become very intrusive. I suggested eliminating it, bringing the characters’ eyelines closer to the camera axis. Another difficulty concerned horizontal and diagonal movement. In 4:3, you are forced to move much more quickly, whereas in a widescreen format horizontal movement can develop more slowly. It was a challenge, but little by little I learnt how to make the most of the characteristics of that format.
You used the zoom: could you explain in more detail the reasons behind that choice?
To convey that mysterious, slightly surreal atmosphere – the sense that there was something hidden, something unspoken, in Camilo’s life – I thought of introducing zooms into the visual language. I was a little apprehensive about suggesting it, as directors often dislike them. Gael, however, welcomed the idea and found it very interesting. I have always been fascinated by the use of zooms, especially in the films of… Robert AltmanI have always been fascinated by the use of zooms, especially in Altman’s films, where they are combined with tracking shots and the actors’ movements. Rather than breaking a scene up into many shots, Altman could make it extraordinarily dynamic through a single movement, with very few cuts. I had long been waiting for a film in which I could explore this approach, and… Hombre al agua …it was the right opportunity. We still used prime lenses, of course, but at certain moments the zoom gave us something powerful, particularly when a scene took on a heightened emotional tension.
And, turning to the technical side for a moment, which camera, lenses and lights did you use?
I shot on an ARRI Mini LF with Tribe7 Blackwing7 T-Tuned prime lenses and Zeiss 28–80mm and 60–200mm zooms. All the lighting was LED; we used no HMIs or tungsten fixtures.
As well as being a cinematographer, you’re also a camera operator, with many years’ experience in that role. How important is it to you to remain physically behind the camera? How strongly do you feel the need to operate the camera yourself on the films you shoot?
I think I developed as a camera operator mainly during the years when I was making documentaries and travelling to tell real stories, which I had to convey entirely through the camera’s gaze. I believe that experience of observing a scene first as a person and then as an operator shaped the way I bring it into the frame. The camera’s movement, its breathing, is already an interpretation of what is in front of you. In many scenes in Gael’s film, I had the camera mounted on… a Fisher dolly, with a few metres of track, a slider and a zoom lens.That gave me tremendous freedom to move on several axes. I could follow the characters’ physical expressions, bring them into the frame or move away from them, and draw attention to one detail while leaving another out. My approach to lighting grows out of the same need: by lighting the whole space, I try to give the director, the actors and myself behind the camera more freedom to move and express ourselves.
In Hombre al agua, water is, of course, a central element.
We shot in the Yucatán in summer, when it normally pours with rain in the late afternoon. We expected to spend a lot of time shooting in the rain and worried it might bring us to a standstill. In fact, it barely rained. The few moments of real rain appear in some of the film’s exterior scenes; for the others, we had to recreate it.
For the scene in which Camilo’s study floods, Gael had the excellent idea of rebuilding the room inside a small swimming pool at the hacienda, avoiding costly set construction. Water surrounds the house in the film, and I worked a great deal with compositions in which part of the image was reflected. Indoors, too, mirrors doubled the images. It was a way of playing with ambiguity, but also of giving form to the characters’ different identities, to the different versions of themselves they showed to others.
Who worked alongside you?
I had a highly skilled crew around me. The camera department was fantastic: Eric Gallego, the focus puller, and Rodrigo Gonzales, the camera assistant, supported me throughout with tremendous enthusiasm and energy. The electricians and grips were precise, quick and tireless, and every other department was extremely professional too. The only person who came from Italy was Paolo Furlanelli, the DIT I’ve worked with for years.
The Mexican crew brought an incredible passion for their work, dedication and willingness to go the extra mile. They were also wonderfully collaborative. Paolo and I felt very much at home with them, both personally and professionally.
What were the biggest challenges?
Definitely the daytime exteriors, the heat and the twelve-hour shooting days! In the Yucatán, the sun rises at around six and is already high in the sky an hour later. It stays high for much of the day, then drops quickly. The magic hour is very short, and because of the humidity, the sun sometimes disappears behind the clouds before it even reaches the horizon. With careful scheduling, we managed to avoid the harshest light by shooting interiors…
during the most difficult hours and staging some scenes in the shade. Looking back, though, what stays with me more than the difficulties is the pleasure of being on that set and having such an extraordinary experience. We had little time and a complex film to make, but I felt we were all working towards the same goal. I hope something of that spirit comes through in the images.
Thanks Fabrizio.
TECHNICAL CREDITS
Rental: D-Vision Mexico City
Camera operators: Fabrizio La Palombara, Emilio Valdez, Marisa Velez
Focus puller: Erick Gallegos
Camera assistant: Rodrigo Gonzales
DIT: Paolo Furlanelli
Gaffer: Javier Enriquez
Camera: ARRI Mini LF
Aspect ratio: 4:3
Lenses: Tribe 7 Black Wings T Tuned; Zeiss 28–80mm and 60–200mm zooms
Colourist: Walter Cavatoi
