Exploring Strangeness and Reality: Félix Viscarret's Adaptation of Juan José Millás' Novel

By Sandra M Ríos U
Twitter: @sandritamrios

The Spanish director Félix Viscarret co-adapted the novel "Desde la sombra" by Juan José Millás, published in 2016. Considered a master of strangeness, this short work tells the story of a man who escapes from a small theft he has committed by hiding in a wardrobe that is bought by a customer at an antique shop. In this way, he ends up in the home of an unknown family, from whom he begins to hear their stories. Instead of leaving when given the opportunity, he decides to stay and become a hidden part of their lives.

"No mires a los ojos" ("Staring at Strangers"), the title of the film, is essentially a fairly faithful adaptation of the original storyline, where that tone of strangeness and the blurred lines between reality and fantasy are handled with a play of perspectives, told in two timelines. The main character, Damián, is portrayed here by the renowned actor Paco León, who undergoes a change of style from his usual comedy roles.

Felix Viscarret visited Colombia last May, when he attended the Spanish Film Showcase as one of its special guests. We took the opportunity to talk to him about this film, which was nominated for Best Adapted Screenplay at the Goya Awards and won the Best Ibero-American Film award at the Valladolid International Film Week. The film will now be released in Colombian theaters.

When you opened SEMINCI in Valladolid, you mentioned that the film's title had a connection with the song by Golpes Bajos with the same name. I read its lyrics, and I feel that it describes the psyche of the protagonist when it says things like "Don't look at people who are scary because they always lie" or "Hide in the guest room, it's my hiding place, you can always love me." It seems to complete the unsaid parts of this story. At what moment did this connection with the song occur to you?

Sandra, I'll tell you. On one hand, we were looking for a title that reflected Juan José Millás' universe very well. One characteristic of his stories is that they take us to a strange place. Starting from a more or less everyday event, they end up in something strange, surreal, but also poetic at times. It can be unsettling, but also very lyrical. And in a way, I had in mind the memory of that song from the 80s, from what was then called the "movida" pop, the pop-rock scene in Spain. That song by Golpes Bajos also had that duality of presenting a somewhat asocial character, someone who hides in the guest room, someone who tells another person to stay by their side, not to leave anymore, someone who wonders if someone is looking for them.

In a way, it had nothing to do with the novel; they didn't emerge simultaneously, but they reflected each other, they had a very nice dialogue. So, the title "No mires a los ojos" appeared to us, as it preserved that double level of interpretation. It's a bit like the biblical story of Lot's wife, who is told not to look back under the threat of turning into a pillar of salt. Well, this has reminded me a bit of the same thing because it's enough for someone to tell you not to look into their eyes to somehow incite you to do so.

And it's heard at several moments, in fact...

Yes. The song gained a lot of presence in the film, that's why it plays at several moments. There's a very original connection there.

When I started watching your film, I thought we would see something similar to "El patrón" by Fernando León de Aranoa, but it turns out that it changes course very soon, even in tone, and from then on, nothing is what it seems. How was it to adapt a novel of this nature in order to maintain intrigue and surprise in the film?

I like to think in terms of challenges. I took it as a very stimulating and fun challenge. Since my adolescence, I've been attracted to Juan José Millás' universe. There's something about him, he likes to draw from an everyday event, something that can happen to anyone. In the case of "No mires a los ojos," it's that the protagonist gets fired from his job, where he has worked his whole life. That triggers in him a desire to disappear, to become invisible, to hide from the world. And that desire to disappear gradually evolves into that. Starting from that practically small, everyday event, he gradually gets entangled, everything gets complicated, and he ends up hiding in a family's house. Throughout that adventure, the unusual and the mental aspects have more and more space in the film, until the moment when he not only wants to disappear but also wants to reinvent himself, to say, "Now this is my place, I want to belong to this family, I want to be part of this family."

Let's talk about Damián's evolution throughout the story, going from being an ordinary character to one filled with ambiguities. You either love him or hate him, or both.

That's something I believe is in all human beings, that contradiction between not wanting to be present and wanting to be part of something. I don't know how easy or difficult it is to make a film about the world of desires, the world of looking, of spying or being spied on, and of being part of a group. I hope the audience also feels that, that it's a film that will take them to different and surprising places, to situations they might not have expected, through the eyes of a character that you sometimes love, sometimes like, sometimes you're with him, but sometimes you also cover your face a bit, saying, "Oh, oh, oh! What is he capable of doing now, how far will he take this crazy adventure?" He's a character you follow emotionally, with whom you empathize, but there's also a moment when you almost fear him.

And amidst all this madness and unusual situations, does the film have room for that political perspective and social criticism? You mentioned now how voyeuristic we are as individuals and as a society.

Yes, it's true. There's something about Juan José Millás, the author of the novel on which the film is based, that he always has a political vision, although I believe that his universe leans more towards making the surreal believable, almost a kind of magical realism. It's also true that the trigger in many of his stories has a social element, and in this case, it's an unexpected and unfair dismissal. It talks about a kind of person that we usually don't pay attention to, those who seem to populate the margins of ordinary stories. So, yes, there's always a social or political reading, although in "No mires a los ojos," as you rightly said, it evolves into an adventure where it's more important how he will manage to escape or how he will navigate through it.

The film addresses another issue very relevant to modern societies and the competitive world: mental health. Is this another aspect the film aims to explore?

Absolutely. I would say it's another psychological interpretation of the character's mental processes, what is reality and what is imagination for him. And also the character played by Leonor Watling, who portrays the main character of the family because her psychological processes truly establish the heart of the story.

I love the idea of viewers being able to find all these interpretations.

What was it like working with Paco León to push the boundaries of the film between humor, comedy, drama, and even tragedy?

Well, Paco León in Spain is a star, a real authority, not only as an actor but also as a director. He has a very quick intelligence, a natural gift. Both he and I wanted to take this character, the protagonist, to the edge of the precipice. In other words, Paco León played a character very different from what he usually does. It's a strange character, one that shows a side we empathize with, but we also see that he hides another part, a part that can sometimes unsettle us and that we don't fully understand. We both found this challenge very exciting.

How did you manage the blurred line between reality and fantasy that we see in the film?

The language of the film was also very important and enjoyable for us. It was like a game of perspectives, where the camera showed things the way he discovered them, not before. In fact, we couldn't discover something before the protagonist did. Many times, we didn't see the actors' faces until he observed them first in real life or in a photograph.

In a way, from the beginning, we see that the story unfolds in two timelines. First, there's what we understand as the present, which is the television program where they are interviewing the protagonist as someone who has undertaken this unusual adventure. And then there are the moments when we jump to what we understand as the past, the adventure he experienced. Finding a balance between these two timelines was a fun challenge, so that gradually, as viewers, we didn't have a clear concept of what was real and what was imagined by the protagonist. The camera also had to hide under the bed in the house and witness the family's life, exactly as someone hiding under a bed would see it, only seeing their feet, hearing their voices, and piecing together that image. I think viewers will find this amusing or entertaining.

What has the author of the novel said about this adaptation?

Juan José Millás was very respectful and generous, I would say. He allowed me to adapt the screenplay with David Muñoz. Both of us were able to work with a lot of freedom, and we both understood that certain aspects of the novel would have more development in the film, while others would be subtly hinted at. Juan José thought it was great. He read the screenplay and felt that sometimes we had managed to find a new rhythm that the novel didn't have. At the Valladolid Festival, when we first presented the film, he said that sometimes the film improved upon the novel, and that's saying something because the novel is very good. It was his way of showing us his affection, his stamp of approval. He said it with his characteristic humor and humility.

In the film, there are several moments where we refer to someone named Juanjo, when they are interviewing the protagonist on the television show, as if he were the director of that program. Juanjo is a tribute to Juan José Millás, as if he were the great mind, the demiurge who created all of this. It was our small gesture of recognition.

You have a new feature film ready for release. Can you tell us about this new story?

While this film is being released in Colombia, I am about to release my next film in Spain titled "Not Such a Simple Life." It has a different tone, more of a dramedy or a comedy portraying a generation, focusing on those of us who have experienced the transition into adulthood, from youthful dreams to the reality of life. It's, as I like to say, a comedy that allows us to smile or wink at the ups and downs of life when you enter this phase they call balancing the raising of children with a professional life, and the unfulfilled dreams of youth.

I hope we can also watch it in Colombia to continue following your career.

I would love to present it here as well. Thank you, Sandra, for watching the film so attentively.

<< Go to Spanish version