Sometimes happens. Movies that find a corner of your body where they can settle. From there, they tell you about life. Because they talk about you, or they don’t at all, but they help you understand. To come to terms with what is one’s own and what is foreign, even with what is incomprehensible. There is cinema that shouts and dresses in pomp. There is another who whispers truths and, so naked, the only thing left to do is surrender to them.
Isabel Coixet (Barcelona, 1960) has recently received the European Achievement in World Cinema award because “throughout his films, in his writings and in his political commitment, he has defended his beliefs and values, and has given a voice to his protagonists.” And the statement is as correct as it is scarce. Because the skin is missing and the breath held and that precise and complex emotion that runs through all of Coixet’s cinema. A thread threads each of his films: the search for a fit – or a mismatch – in the world his protagonists inhabit. Women who strive to find their place, even when they experience flight or the announcement of their death.
There is no swampy terrain that Coixet shies away from. Rather, it is easy to imagine her wearing high boots, standing in the middle of the mud, trying to find the nuances of the mud and striving to convey all the pain and beauty that make it up. Because in each of her films she offers a journey, some especially hard and rough, but she never lets go of the viewer’s hand. There is always the refuge of a smile, a space for tenderness and, finally, something resembling hope.
Awards
Recognition has accompanied the filmmaker throughout her career, adds national and international awards, the red carpets of the most prestigious festivals have surrendered to her work, the French Ministry of Culture has named her Knight of Arts and Letters, she has also won the 2020 National Cinematography Award… The list of awards invites applause and yet Coixet would receive it with a willful smile and a fleeting glance, without quite believing the mess, with his head set on the next project, wondering how he was going to manage to get it off the ground and rolling up his sleeves. to turn difficulties into opportunities. Because, beyond the spotlight and the applause, beyond the glamor and the statuettes, Coixet has never worn the mantle of divinity. And so she walks through life, so strong or so weak, so funny or so melancholic, so witty or so insecure & mldr; so naked
And so authentic. Like that girl from the Gràcia neighborhood who, with his glasses and his wit, had to endure ridicule of those who did not wear glasses or were taller or had less wit. The little girl who discovered cinema very soon, with a box-office grandma from the Texas cinema in Barcelona. Paradise began in that dark room, accompanied by her parents, at the same moment in which the outside world faded and the fascinating and unlimited inner journey began. At the age of 9, they gave him a camera for his communion.. A Super 8 that forced him to think carefully about each shot: the loads were expensive. The first shot of him, the Coca Cola stain on his dress. He loved etching spots. You know, the mud.
His first job was in advertising, he directed hundreds of spots that became his school. From there, to the world. “Behind a camera there are no borders, passports, flags or limits. “I wish the world were like this,” she said when collecting his latest award. And Coixet’s homeland smells of company and refuge; to laughter, literature and music; with a sip of champagne, a bite of cheese and some good anchovies. That’s why the guardians of the homelands were choked by their position during the ‘procés’. So far from essentialism, so afflicted by the dynamite charges thrown against coexistence.
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Coixet has the courage of those who have always claimed creative freedom. He blurts out truths with a certain haste, as do shy people who have had enough of being shy. He jokes because he doesn’t get along with solemnity. His magic word is ‘Action!’ And she is generous because she knows what it is like to forge a career with too many voices against her.
Because you do that? Why do you say that? And the filmmaker, the girl, the mother, the daughter, the companion and the friend, shrugs her shoulders, frowns a little, gives a smile that seems strange, hesitates and simply moves on. So naked. So free. Trying not to bother too much. Although, yes, of course, she does.