The public got to know Biel Rossell (Igualada, 2004) when he was a child actor in La vida sense la Sara Amat. He played a role with a passive attitude and curious look in the hands of Laura Jou, director and coach of reference actors, and he took up that same character in the series Cucut, its television sequel. But, after becoming legally an adult, another opportunity came to him where he could stretch the limits of his talent (or demonstrate the absence of said limits) with the help of two other great directors of actors: Javier Calvo and Javier Ambrossi in La Mesías by Movistar Plus.

And, after the dance with which he says goodbye in the third episode broadcast this week, it was essential to speak with the actor. It is an unexpected scene: after a dramatic torrent with Lola Dueñas and Albert Pla, on the verge of psychological terror, the series transforms into a beautiful and anguished musical with Rossell climbing the walls. Those who assumed that the musical elements of La Mesías would be limited to the Stella Maris videos with Amaia Romero (or that it would have the comedy feel of Paquita Salas or Veneno) were very wrong.

When did you know you had this dance scene?

When they gave me the script. I read that Enric would start dancing in the punishment room and that, in a dream or magic way, he would climb the walls. It had to be a dance with the energy that the character had left over from the conversations with his mother. And I remember underlining it in the script and thinking, “What? I have to ask the Javis this when he sees them.” What did it mean that he climbed the walls? He didn’t understand it. It was something that looked very nice written there on the page but… how were they going to do it?

Hadn’t they warned you about the importance of dancing at the castings?

In the second casting there was an approach to a dance scene that was not staged in the end. But they warned me that the character was related to dancing. They asked me what relationship I had with dance and I said that I had no experience professionally but that I liked it and that I wanted to work on it. When you know that the Javis are behind the project, you can only say: “I put myself at your service and will do many hours of rehearsal.” And that’s what I did: many hours of rehearsal with Belén Martí and Celso Jiménez. We were not looking for an imposed movement but rather how a story could be spun from my movements.

The day of filming. You have a rotating stage to perform the dance. Did you feel the pressure?

I rehearsed a lot because technically it was very complicated. They needed someone to spin around like a hamster in there and we had a whole day to shoot the scene. I ended up dead. There was a lot of pressure because the camera was fixed on me. All the apartments were delivered and it was a worrying scene. There was only me of the actors. Luckily, there was time to work on it. Something this series has had is time and resources.

Why so many trials?

Dancing was one of the reasons. I did many hours of approaching the most technical dance. There were also many meetings with games with the girls so that they could get together, to create the relationship of an older brother with them, to make them laugh and have the power to ask for silence. We became like brothers: we created a relationship and they listened to me as if I were a real older brother. That’s a lot of work, apart from the fact that there were many difficult, strong, forceful, powerful and risky scenes with Lola Dueñas. It was a rare naturalism that had to be believable. I discovered that a series with the Javis is not a project but a vital journey. We actors become very obsessed with the characters, the scenes, asking questions, looking back.

How was the dynamic with Lola Dueñas and Albert Pla?

The relationships between the characters of Lola, Albert, Irene [Balmes] and I were very systemic. With the mother, for example, there was a love-hate relationship. Getting on Lola and Albert’s level of interpretation was a pleasure and at the same time a total respect. It’s like working with musicians to whom you give a sheet of music and from the beginning they give all the notes, due to talent and experience. Trying to play that same score with them was very enriching. They helped me a lot and there was always an affinity to talk to each other as professionals and understand how to make replicas.

You share the character of Enric with Bruno Núñez, who plays him as a child, and with Roger Casamajor, the adult version. What is it like to build a three-way character?

We only met once and it was with Roger. There were Roger, Irene, Macarena [García] and me. We spent two hours creating situations to see how each of us would act. But the Javis always told us not to obsess over movements or positions: to develop our characters in our own way. We don’t blend in. It is true, for the record, that I asked to see Bruno’s material to take details. But they gave me freedom and at the same time I felt that they gave me instructions so that without realizing it the three of us would be alike.

Before The Messiah, you had worked with director Laura Jou (whom we interviewed at the time), one of the great acting coaches on the peninsula, and who has worked with half of the star-system coming out of Catalonia. And now you’ve moved on to Calvo and Ambrossi who have an impeccable reputation for directing actors. How has the change been?

I’ve thought about it a lot. The biggest difference lies in the script and the character: the starting point was very different. They have a different way of working but they share one thing: both Jou and the Javis are prodigious in giving the exact indication at the exact moment. I could never choose between “mom and dad” because it wouldn’t be fair: they both raised me.

Without spoiling the series. How did you feel when you saw what they did with your character in the following episodes? And with Roger Casamajor’s Enric, who plays you as an adult?

I was very shocked. I asked Javi for the adult Enric scenes so I could add layers to what I had left to shoot. I was shocked to see that everything is so well written, that everything makes sense and fits together: nothing is just because. It’s a great trip that Roger takes.

But haven’t you seen the entire series?

No. I’m in a balloon. I’ve only read what happens. I haven’t been able to watch the latest episodes because I don’t have the stomach or the time to watch them now. I want to be able to digest them as a spectator since as an actor I can no longer do anything. Watching them quickly now would only serve to cover my hunger and I feel like watching the series at the audience’s pace.

And, now that with the promotion and broadcast of the series you are already closing a cycle, what do you take away from The Messiah?

Absolute gratitude. I had to deal with my impostor syndrome: I had to get rid of it because otherwise I wouldn’t move forward. Now that I’m free, I’m grateful for having taken advantage of the experience: the rehearsals, the filming… It was exhausting but I wouldn’t change it for the world and, if they ask me to film The Messiah again, I say yes instantly. As an actor, the Javis make you do something very risky. Although I think that, in reality, I have not yet digested The Messiah. I always say that in five years I will watch the series again and that way I will be able to watch and digest it as it deserves. For example, now I like La vida sense la Sara Amat much more than when I released it. You judge yourself less over time. I don’t know if I’m mature enough to process everything that’s happened.