He left the world of sports journalism to chart his own course as a performer. Time has proven that Anthony of the tower, born in Malaga in 1968, chose wisely. He has earned two Goyas in a career defined by bold turns and outspoken artistry. The story of a man who became the most nominated actor in these awards, with fourteen nominations, reads like a map of ambition and resilience. A figure moving through history, memory, and the shadow of the Holocaust, his journey asks what it means to tell stories that endure. The stage in Alicante, at the Main Theater, becomes a crossroads where memory and performance meet for a night that arrives after long anticipation (time stamp: 20 hours).
Memory and the Holocaust are themes that stay present, even as years pass and the world evolves. They sit at the forefront of a difficult conversation about war, today and yesterday, including the conflict between Russia and Ukraine.
Historians remind us that history often repeats itself in patterns of imbalance and fear. The challenge lies in recognizing the humanity of others, no matter their background. Modern life still wrestles with equal rights for people from Morocco, China, Africa, and every corner of the world. The task remains to build civilization that treats every person with dignity—an ongoing struggle that mirrors the theater itself. The narrative continues to move forward, one performance at a time.
In the piece, writer Primo Levi and former Red Cross member Maurice Rossel engage in a dramatic, imagined dialogue about their experiences at Auschwitz. Levi speaks as a prisoner; Rossel represents an international NGO with a duty to witness. The tension between those two perspectives anchors the drama and invites reflection on what happened there and why it matters now.
Most of what unfolds in the play aligns with known history. Levi recorded his observations in his writings; Rossel appears in documentary material, though the two never actually met. Rossel served at Auschwitz with the Geneva Convention in mind, while Levi was among the imprisoned. The Holocaust stands as a stark reminder of how easily ordinary people can become part of a vast atrocity when silence and avoidance take hold. The work avoids spoiling the moment, yet its central truth is clear: something monstrous can occur when many people choose to look away.
With events of grave consequence both past and present, questions arise about forgiveness and reconciliation. The path toward healing is seen as the sole possible way forward, a break in the cycle of vengeance. Without it, hate can outpace love and the spiral may never end.
“Modernity would mean recognizing that everyone—Moroccan, Chinese, African, and me—deserves the same human rights, then moving forward together.”
The playwright for this production is Felipe Vega, while the direction comes from Manuel Martín Cuenca. The performance under discussion leans toward cinema while rooted in theater, and its creators have discussed other collaborative possibilities. The project emerged through a conversation between the director and the writer during the pandemic, transforming into what some describe as documentary theater—an encounter that feels both real and invented, a blend aimed at capturing truth through staged dialogue (Source: personal interviews with involved creators).
The artist began stepping onto the stage in 2008 with a work titled Fantastic Tavern, later moving through roles like Grumpy in 2012, before returning to the table for this new engagement. How does a life in theater compare to cinema? The answer, the actor suggests, is that every day on stage is another unpredictable performance, shaped by the room, the audience, and even the hum of a phone in the wings. The influence of public reaction matters less than the emotional honesty an actor brings to the moment. The risk of being seen remains constant in any screen appearance, and the improvisation of live theater adds a raw edge that filming cannot replicate.
Antonio de la Torre, featured in the production, is quoted as saying that theater is a place where art breathes in real time, where every night feels like a new encounter. A glance in the mirror after a performance can be both humbling and energizing. The truth is that the stage asks for courage, and the actor accepts the challenge with steady resolve.
Two Goyas adorn his career, but the mark of fourteen nominations stands out as a record of consistency and respect within the industry. The question of whether such a tally is meaningful or merely a number sparks thoughtful commentary. The actor reflects that the thrill of being mentioned fades as the years advance, and the next project inevitably moves into view, inviting new pursuits and fresh recognition.
“I’ve had the best and the worst. Moments of victory, moments of unanimous applause, and moments when the audience told me, ‘Antonio, you let me down’.”
When asked about a return to cinema, the actor confirms that new projects are on the horizon. A film by Ces Gay is in theaters, telling stories that will continue to unfold in the coming year. The life of a working actor remains fluid, with opportunities evolving and doors sometimes closing. Yet the family life provides balance: two children, aged eleven and six, and the privilege of choosing projects that align with personal values and creative curiosity.
If journalism still held his hand today, the imagined headline might speak to a world without borders—a global accord aimed at solving humanity’s most pressing problems. In that tone, the interview closes with a hopeful subtitle: a desire to move humanity forward through shared responsibility and open, constructive dialogue (Attribution: interview coverage and public statements from the artist and collaborators).