Jaione Camborda made history ten days ago by being the first Spanish filmmaker to win the Concha d’Or at the Sant Sebastià Festival. And he achieved it with O corno, the first film in Galician to compete in the official section. The second feature film by the 40-year-old Basque director and screenwriter based in Galicia is a sorority tale that vindicates female desire, motherhood and the right to abortion in a Spain of the seventies where the patriarchal system fell like a slab on some women trying to escape the control exercised by others over their bodies.
Starring the dancer Janet Novás, the film is set on A Illa de Arousa in 1971, where Maria works as a seafood worker, despite the fact that she is known in the village for the dedication with which she assists other women during childbirth. After helping a minor to have an abortion, she is forced to flee and crosses the border with Portugal on a smuggling route.
Does the origin of this story have anything to do with any case you know?
Well, it arises from a need to explore the woman’s ability to give life and to conceive, which was one of the uncertainties that suddenly occupied me. Also of the moments when your body becomes the protagonist, either as a source of pleasure or pain. But above all it is a film that during the process has been the result of many witnesses. Apart from researching in archives, I have spoken a lot with people who lived at that time and their testimonies have inspired scenes. I would say it is a film of many true stories.
Why did you want to set it in A Illa de Arousa and 1971?
For several reasons. I think that at that time birth was not yet so medicalized, there were many births at home. On the other hand, the woman was more connected to the land. There was more contact with nature. And, then, because it is late Francoism, a dark age of prohibitions, especially of control over women. I was interested in certain aspects of that time that dialogued with today, because I think there are some aspects of that time that are harassing and are even being given a voice. And it’s dangerous.
He talks about the historical context, but he doesn’t highlight it, why?
It was important not to lose sight of the more human side of the story, I didn’t want it to be an exclusively political thing. The existential part was the one that had to gain strength. And it was essential that the portrait of the prohibition era was non-explicit in order to reflect on why the woman’s body is still a source of controversy.
Much has been said about the initial sequence of preparation for childbirth. How did you conceive it?
For me it was important to approach it from a very physical place. I think we have seen the history of cinema very much situated in the psychological realm, I would even say hysterical, and always in the expulsive. And I was interested in showing the whole previous moment, in which time is suspended between contractions. Above all, women very connected with the body, with the mammalian part of creation. It was important to give him that fairer space with reality.
It is the first film of Janet Novás, who is incredible as Maria. Was it difficult to find her?
Janet is a contemporary dancer and I had seen some of her previous work which interested me. And also presence, the way of being physically in the world. I invited her to the casting as well with other dancers. In fact, she was born in a rural area, she has seen her family work the land and it was something that was close to the character. Also, she had a potential to work with emotions and generate dramatic arcs that made me fall for her.
Help among women is essential. Both in childbirth and in abortion.
I think that sorority and moments of meeting and help in the intimate sphere have always existed among women. The female and intergenerational accompaniment to childbirth was very typical and I thought it was important to highlight this in a time of so much clandestineness that it forced this sorority to be almost for survival, and also to highlight this tribe or herd aspect almost in the sense that we are able to survive there, to find the warmth and the strength to continue forward as opposed to the loneliness that the character finds at one point in the story.
Diego Anido has a secondary, but basic role as a magician.
He appears on a St. John’s day in which Eros and Thanatos, passion, carnality are mixed, and I thought this figure that suddenly arrives and is something as inexplicable as human creation is beautiful. He is a very versatile actor.
There is an increasingly feminine look at Spanish cinema, with women writing and directing their own stories.
It was about time, although I think it is late that we finally have the opportunity to create, because we had not been given the opportunity. I think we come to enrich and in cinema a plurality of views is necessary.
Which directors do you admire?
Fantastic Spanish films are being made. I really like El agua, by Elena López Riera. Carla Simón is doing very powerful things, Clara Roquet… and those to come. There are many that will emerge in the coming years.
