One of our Production Interns, Regan O’Brien, recently had the chance to speak with Valentina Baracco Pena, director of the feature documentary That Breath. The project came about when Valentina’s grandfather, Fernando, asked that the two of them make a film together. Both carrying their own cameras, they embarked on an intimate exploration of their bond and began to see each other in a new light. Pena and her team are unfortunately unable to travel all the way from Uruguay to attend MNFF10 in person, but she was kind enough to share a few words about the film over video conference.
I understand that it was your grandfather Fernando’s idea to make this film. What did you think when he first suggested it?
It was a very big surprise for me because my grandfather is not an actor, is not a filmmaker. It’s my grandfather. The invitation was like, Okay, I have to make a movie with my grandfather. And for the first time, it was the possibility to feel better, for me, because I was [feeling] guilty because I was leaving him alone. It was very difficult for me to move from his house. So I thought, Okay, I will do this for my grandfather. I don’t know why he is telling me to make a movie, but I want to discover. I prefer to stay with the only certainty there was, that he wants to make a movie called That Breath. And that was all the information I had in those moments.
So then, I start shooting, seeing him with a camera, because I accepted his invitation. And then I discovered that it was a possibility of truly sharing time with him and knowing him. Because the first thing that I shoot, one of the first, is when he is in the [stationary] bicycle. When I was looking at him doing the bicycle, I realized that I didn’t know that he does that. Because, although we lived twenty years together, I was always leaving the house and working and studying and doing a lot of things. And I didn’t see the image of my grandfather doing the bicycle! When I was shooting, I realized that I didn’t know what made him happy, what made him sad, how he deals with loneliness — I didn’t know my grandfather. So I think the film was the possibility to know each other.
“When I was shooting, I realized that I didn’t know what made him happy, what made him sad, how he deals with loneliness — I didn’t know my grandfather. So I think the film was the possibility to know each other.”
You talked about being seen, and being able to see him. Was that ever intimidating? Was it a new experience for you to be a subject as well as a filmmaker? Did it scare you?
Yes. It was very difficult for me to be a director and a filmmaker, with the camera. When I started shooting, I said I couldn’t do this film because I don’t know how to deal with a camera. Because I am a producer and — I can’t, I can’t, I can’t! I tried to make the movie with a friend and he was [operating] the camera, and it was a disaster. It was a disaster. And I realized that it was a film between my grandfather and I. Because at first, I thought it was a film about my grandfather only. I didn’t want to be a character in the film. So I thought, Okay, it is a film about my grandfather, so I can share this film with a friend. Because I was scared. And then I realized that I had to [hold] the camera, share time with him and be there to share time, and [wait for] the ideas to come and the things that we have to shoot. So, it was a lot of time. Ten years. And it was very difficult, to me, to stop shooting.
Was there a moment when you kind of felt like you had reached the end, or that you had started to get an idea in your mind of what it might look like as a whole?
Yes. It was when I was shooting the scene when I ask him why he wants to make a movie.
Instead of a book or something else! I remember.
It was in that moment that I realized that the film was finished. But it was difficult. My grandfather says that we had to be 10 years sharing the film. Because if we were 10 years making the film, we have to be 10 years sharing the film.
Oh, that’s wonderful. I love that. Speaking of challenges, was there anything else that surprised you that was really more difficult? Or maybe emotionally hard, or just technically?
Yeah. Emotionally? All the film. [Laughs.] But I think that when Topper, the dog, is feeling bad, it was very difficult for me because I was feeling very bad. Yeah. And when we — in those moments when the dog was feeling bad, it was difficult for me because I didn’t realize how to shoot the scene. This is very important for me, because when I was shooting, [for the] first time, I was always thinking, How [do] I have to shoot this film? With my mind. And then I realized that I have to shoot the film with my heart. And feel how to shoot. And if I can’t, and I have to leave the camera, leave the camera. But I think that the person that is seeing the film, he has to feel the same as me. So, it was very hard when I was shooting, when I was filming this scene, because I didn’t know how to deal with the dog and my grandfather. I was shooting and then he starts to talk about my grandmother, and it takes me with surprise. And it was very moving for me. So, it is like, with the camera, moving and leaving the camera…
Yes! Reacting in the moment.
Yeah.
I also thought that something that was so magical about the film is how you can use metaphors, or other things that you see your grandfather paying attention to, and it matches up with these emotions. And one of them, which is just a really beautiful motif, is the eared doves. […] When you first realized the birds were so important to him, did you think they were similar to you and him immediately, or did it take some time to figure it out?
I remember that I was shooting and one day the doves were there. And I talked with Andrés [D’Avenia Frávega], the producer, and I said to him, Oh, my grandfather is telling me that we have to shoot some doves. And I tell him the story. And he told me, You are the doves. I was like, no! Valentina, you are the doves. And I was always moving [away] from the film, because the film talks about me, too. So it was very difficult for me. And it was difficult when he says that the doves are like humans and when he says that my visits are a piece of shit. So. [Laughs.]
Like we were saying before, there’s so much vulnerability. Sometimes you need another person to say, Look what’s happening here!
Yeah. Because I think the difficulty of the shoot with someone that you love is that you have to make him or her like a character. My grandfather, in the film, is a character. But it is my grandfather, too. As a director, it is a challenge to see him like a character, and maybe you need to… It is very important, the producer and all the team, in the movie.
I also wanted to ask you about the physical space, because so much of the film occurs in his house, in his apartment. I was wondering if it was ever difficult to keep things fresh, or new, when you have the same space — because it never feels boring, or like we’ve seen this before. But that must be challenging!
Yeah. And in 10 years, the house is always moving, moving things and changing things. So I realized that, when I was in the third year, I realized that I was shooting, like, fragments. Little spaces. You cannot [capture] all the house. You are seeing a part of the house, another part of the house, another part of the house, so we can arrange it in a timeline and move the scenes. Because there’s material from 2011, and 2020, and 2013, there’s order.
Well, and then you can use the different spaces in different ways, you know? Maybe in the bedroom, there’s a more emotional moment, in the kitchen, something more lighthearted, or something like that.
And in shooting, I realized that the windows are very important. There’s a world through the window, and my grandfather is always seeing the world from the window. And I realized that it is very beautiful to share time with him, seeing the window, and it’s a little thing. Very, very, very small and simple, but it is very beautiful. And I was always running, running, running, running, and when I was shooting and stayed there, seeing the world from the window — it is a very big world! So you can see lots of things from the window.
And so much of what he shoots with the camera is out the window, is nature. And then it becomes — it’s sort of like your movie is about his movie. Seeing what he sees, like you said.
So, I want to ask you one last question, which is — the title of the film. You said that was sort of his first condition. It has to be called Ese Soplo, That Breath. And I wanted to ask: you know, you can’t speak for him, but what does the title mean to you? I know that there’s a point in the film where he’s singing this song. [The lyric is] To feel that life lasts a breath.
When I was a kid, when we go on vacations, we had ‘the game of the songs.’ That was, he starts singing a song, and I had to continue the song. So I learned to sing the song of Carlos Gardel, that is “Volver,” that says, Life is like a breath. And that was something that I was always repeating since [I was] a child, and I didn’t know what it means until we make the movie. Because I feel like life is like a breath. It passes away, but it means you feel like something that stays in your heart. And the film, and the relationship between my grandfather and I, it is like a breath. Because I think the moments that you live with your grandfather, with your family, with your friends — the moments lived — it is what you have to take. For you.
That Breath will be screening at MNFF10 on Wednesday, August 21st at 2pm in the Marquis Theatre Screening Room, alongside narrative shorts Curtain Call and Roses.