After more than twenty years of success in front of the camera, Paz Vega decided to step behind it for the first time. She did so with a calm, honest approach, speaking about a world she remembers and a past that resembles her own. The film Rita, Vega’s remarkable directorial debut, follows a girl growing up in Seville in 1984. She watches the world with wide-open eyes and, with her brother, creates a sunlit fantasy world that shields them from the storms surrounding their parents. Rita opens in theaters on October 25 and has just been warmly applauded at the Locarno Festival.
Watching Rita, it’s natural to sense that there are autobiographical elements, at least in part. How much of the childhood you lived appears in the film?
The project began as the very first script I wrote, and I felt I had to write about something I know well, about images that feel familiar. In 1984 I was seven or eight years old, and I carry fond memories of scenes that defined my home, such as the fabrics and patterns my mother used to sew dresses. We were living in a Spain that was in transition. The country believed itself modern, yet it clung to an old-fashioned view of life inherited from the dictatorship, where women were expected to stay at home and obey their husbands. Laws like divorce, recently approved, were not yet fully understood or accepted.
When reflecting on what Spain was four decades ago, to what extent did you want to show how much of that country has been left behind, and how much remains?
I think the news makes clear that the old, backward side of the country hasn’t vanished completely. In many areas, toxic and archaic masculine norms still persist. It often feels as if the path we once advanced is being undone, especially as social networks and the ideas passed down through generations keep propagating harmful behaviors around sex and pornography. As the activist Ana María Pérez del Campo has said, a democracy without full gender equality isn’t a true democracy.
Rita is also a tribute to childhood, to the shelter it provides from the adult world and to the solidarity found among children. How did you shape that aspect of the film?
The core aim of the project was to honor the time of childhood and reclaim its value. Adults tend to treat children as if they don’t understand things, which is far from the truth. Children see the world with a purity that adults lose as they grow older, tangled in prejudice and ideology. Preserving that innocence requires real courage; it’s far easier to hide behind cynicism. I’m convinced that children are the ones who can save us from catastrophe.
Why did you decide to direct now, after a career built in front of the camera and behind it as an actor?
I’m self-taught in cinema, learning by working on numerous films across many countries, adapting to varied circumstances, and listening closely. At a certain moment I felt I had something meaningful to say and a way to tell it that felt right. But that moment didn’t arrive today. It arrived nine years ago. Some may think my acting career opened doors easily for a directing debut, but that isn’t the case. It has been a difficult path, full of sacrifices and disappointments.
You serve as both co-star and director for Rita. Why take on both roles?
First, the film is very modest, and playing Rita’s mother helped us avoid an extra salary. Second, my name is recognized and could help the film reach audiences more easily. But acting in the project was never a mere convenience or vanity choice; it wasn’t written with the intention of crafting a personal star vehicle.
Was Rita a project to prove you could direct a feature, or more about beginning a parallel directing journey alongside your acting career?
Undoubtedly, it’s my hope that Rita will be only the first of many films I direct. I don’t want to wait long for the next. It may sound bold to say, but today, writing and directing is the only thing that truly motivates me. For the first time in my life I feel completely fulfilled. It took almost fifty years to feel this way, but as the saying goes, better late than never. There are moments I wonder if I should have directed sooner, at twenty-five or thirty, but maybe the timing wasn’t right. My aim is to harness the power that comes from being in front of the camera to propel the work I want to do behind it. We’ll see how it unfolds.”