Just before the interview begins, Santiago Vaca, born in Córdoba, Argentina in 1998, asks for a moment and points to the sea: “There are dolphins,” he says with wonder. They spend a while watching in astonishment as four cetaceans perform an unplanned show off the coast of s’Argamassa. Vaca’s sense of amazement remains intact, even though his life has changed dramatically since Juan Antonio Bayona cast him in La sociedad de la nieve, a vibrant recounting of the 1972 Andes plane crash. In the film, the young actor portrays Daniel Maspons, one of the passengers. Vaca is currently in Ibiza, invited by the Festival Ibicine.
No exaggeration when saying this film has altered his life.
He has learned a great deal, not only professionally but also personally. The story itself is deeply moving and carries a vital message: the importance of others and altruism. Human beings rely on connections to endure, a central lesson he carries forward. Yet there is also the joy of working with fellow cast members and the crew. It felt like an intense school, especially since he comes from Unquillo, a small town near Córdoba where the streets are still dirt. Until then, he had only left his country once. He never imagined a shoot in the snow would bring him to see dolphins on a beach in Ibiza.
It will be tough to top this experience.
He grew up in independent cinema and never imagined he would be part of a production of this scale. He believes it will be the biggest moment of his life. If that proves true, it will still be a wonderful sign because it means he was part of something extraordinary.
How much of his life has La sociedad de la nieve taken up?
The first casting happened on December 23, 2020. Nine months of auditions, 144 days of filming, two months of pre-production rehearsals, five months of shooting in the Granada mountains, two months in Uruguay, and another stint in a Madrid studio. That is a substantial amount of time, and the process was episodic because it required strict diets and weight changes. Three and a half years later, he remains delighted to talk about, support, and promote the film.
He plays Daniel Maspons in the story—a young passenger who survives the crash, participates in the early rescue expeditions, and dies 16 days later in an avalanche. Has he dreamed of Maspons?
He cannot say he dreamed of him, but in a way he had to ask for permission. The shoot changed his life. He tends to be skeptical, needing evidence to believe in something. Yet a moment during production altered him. When delays kept the project from starting as planned due to various obstacles, a friend urged him to seek permission to embody the character more fully. He jokes about not embracing cliché occult rituals, but he did participate in a session to request a symbolic permission beyond the family’s to honor the role.
People have commented on the unusual group dynamics on set. They practiced breathing exercises.
They did holotropic breathing—a deeply meditative state achieved through controlled hyperventilation and a long breath hold. Even now, images from those moments keep resurfacing. That phase marked a turning point: the entire cast stopped thinking of each other as colleagues or acquaintances and began seeing each other as brothers, a family. That shift proved essential for carrying forward everything the film demanded.
It is no surprise he calls the shoot a transformative experience.
On his birthday, he used to invite five people. From now on, he will have to invite thirty of the cast. It will be a different kind of celebration, but a wonderful one.
He even met two Maspons sisters through the process.
Yes, it was a difficult moment. Imagine someone arriving at your door—a 22-year-old, Córdoba-born actor who had to lose his Córdoba accent after two months of vocal coaching, to portray a beloved family member who is no longer with you. The obligations and respect demanded a full, dedicated performance. He apologized to the family, promising to give the best possible homage to Daniel, a real person who lived as a son, a brother, and a friend.
Was there a life-size dummy of him created for the scene where he dies? How does it feel to see a dead version of oneself?
It was surreal. They used DDT, a Barcelona effects shop with an Oscar won for The Devil’s Backbone, to craft the likeness. The team led by David and Montse is exceptional. The most striking thing about the Oscars moment was not the lack of recognition for the makeup team, but the tactile experience of a cast plaster mold that immobilizes the body for half an hour. Months later a silicone replica bearing his face appeared. It’s all quite surreal to see oneself rendered so precisely.
He has settled in Barcelona. How is this new life?
Very well. He is learning Catalan, making friends, and already had Catalan-speaking acquaintances beforehand. He is eager to work here. Recently, Leo Sbaraglia told him this is a marathon, not a sprint, so the best is yet to come.
What has been the most challenging part of living in this new place?
The biggest hurdle is living in a large city. He remains someone from a land with dirt roads, now in a metropolis like Barcelona. Otherwise, there are no major issues. Catalan is a beautiful language and he finds it easy to learn because he already speaks Italian and Portuguese. The hardest part is the diction classes to soften his accent. Planting now to reap later.
Does he see a career spanning both continents?
Yes, certainly. He considers himself a citizen of the world, but his home will always be Córdoba, Argentina.
Which directors would he love to work with?
In Argentina there are many talents, and in Spain there are numerous filmmakers with incredible ideas. He recently watched Upon Entry by Alejandro Rojas and Juan Sebastián Vásquez, featuring Alberto Ammann and Bruna Cusí, and it was wonderful. He admires Carla Simón, Almodóvar, Amenábar, and Jota Bayona. Working with Bayona again would be a priority.
Argentina’s cinema recently earned recognition at Sitges with Cuando acecha la maldad, while the government in Argentina has announced cuts to the National Institute of Cinema. He believes Argentina’s cinema is powerful and deserves global appreciation, noting that festival wins for Argentine talents have not gone unnoticed by the world, even if some local voices do not fully recognize it. He hopes for a future where such contributions are properly valued, especially as political shifts unfold.
The world needs to see the strength of Argentine culture. That is why the celebration in Ibiza, with two Argentine honorees, Leo Sbaraglia and Axel Kuschevatzky, matters so much to him. The broader public should recognize this cultural force instead of overlooking it.
How does he view the political climate in Argentina, with a leader who promises sweeping changes?
He sees weariness, not desperation, as the catalyst—an ongoing tiredness rooted in a promise-filled past that didn’t fully deliver. The rhetoric of division, not new, has long dented the country’s social fabric. He worries about the impact on rights already earned and the most vulnerable. Education and pensions are among the first to suffer, which he finds deeply disheartening. He feels a sense of disappointment because history should teach better, yet memory sometimes fails in the face of new power plays.
It is interesting to note the guiding idea behind the film: survival depends on mutual support and the willingness to give and receive help.
He is now focused on the next chapters, ready to balance his roots with a wider horizon. The journey continues, fueled by the belief that human connection is the true engine of survival and growth.