I never expected it to become what it did. From the way the phrase was read, people imagined a different kind of film, and nine Goyas would not have seemed likely either. Yet Rodrigo Sorogoyen, born in Madrid in 1981, found himself at the center of attention. The filmmaker who often visits Alicante because his father lives there is now crafting his next script with Isabel Peña, as ever. He says the forthcoming project will pull back on tension.
If I call it Monsters, what first comes to mind?
I’m not sure there is one simple answer. The most striking thing is the sheer quantity of attention it drew, the unusual mix of box office, acclaim and critical praise. We never believed it would be easy, even as audiences followed trends that reward quick rewards. We knew that, and it didn’t matter, because the ambition was to make a film we believed in, regardless of turnout. Then suddenly a large audience showed up, and that surprise is what stayed with me the most.
Yet it won nine Goyas and a César for best non-French film, among many honors. When you start a film, do you think about success?
Success isn’t the goal. It’s a byproduct. We anticipated that some viewers wouldn’t rush to the cinema, and we were wrong. Teams know the league they’re in, yet surprises still appear. Deep down, most filmmakers want to tell a story that moves them first. If it moves others, that’s a wonderful bonus. We hoped the film would excite many viewers because it excites us. In our experience, audiences tend to respond positively to films that break conventional expectations. The feeling of making something with a life of its own persists, and that energy stays with you long after the credits roll. You work toward a film you believe will attract people, even as the dream of cinema remains a personal, utopian ideal. Then, if it touches someone, great. If not, it still matters that you tried. And in the end, I made Monsters because I wanted this kind of cinema to exist in the world.
Isn’t it odd that acclaimed, well-reviewed works don’t reach broad audiences, while others with big crowds get little acknowledgment? Alcarras was cited as an example. Do you feel left out by the Goyas?
If I had a simple answer, I’d share it. The truth is messy. Critics and audiences often diverge, and the dynamics of audiovisual education push audiences toward quick consumption. We live in a moment where immediacy dominates, and people sometimes reward fast experiences. That doesn’t erase responsibility, though; many creators strive to offer a multiplicity of voices. A handful of filmmakers push for bolder, more amorphous storytelling, and critics often reward them differently. The industry is evolving, and sometimes the reward comes later, sometimes not at all. These shifts shape how people perceive a film’s value, but the journey matters more than any single award.
empty cinemas
The topic also touches on evacuated Spain. Are empty cinemas a concern for you?
Absolutely. It’s a concern for the entire sector. We should worry about a trend toward shrinking audiences, because cinema hinges on people choosing to gather in a dark room and share an experience. It’s not just about numbers; it’s about the cultural habit of going to the cinema. A dip in attendance is a signal that something in the ecosystem is out of balance, and it would be a loss if this trend deepened.
“You are making a movie because you believe in it, even if audiences decide otherwise.”
Why do you say the audiovisual industry doesn’t care?
The concern comes from how platforms influence the business. They drive consumption patterns, sometimes at the expense of traditional cinema, and they reshape the working landscape for writers and directors. It’s important to preserve a balance between platforms and cinema, because each contributes to the health of the industry in different ways. This is a worry that sits at the heart of the conversation about how film is produced and consumed today.
Do platforms help or hurt the film world overall?
That’s not a single answer. Platforms have boosted some types of storytelling, especially serialized formats, while their dominance can complicate the traditional cinematic experience. They bring opportunities, but they also set new expectations and timelines that can clash with film’s long, patient evolution.
They have surely energized television with strong series, right?
Yes. They’ve sparked vitality in the TV landscape, though making a series is not the same thing as running a platform. Each form has its own rhythms and demands.
“We are a small, somewhat unruly industry and country.”
But serials now ride the platforms as well…
That’s true today. It’s been a long arc to this moment.
Riot Gear has won many awards. Do Spaniards have their own brand, or should they envy North American dramas?
There’s nothing to envy. Spain hosts strong TV series, and the United States also has its share of both excellent and poor productions. Spanish cinema has its own voice and strengths. People who love cinema know the value in many national traditions, including Argentine cinema, which reflects a broader, global conversation.
The writing duo with Isabel Peña — is four-hands worth it?
It’s a clear win for them. It brings a second mind, a different perspective, and speed. The collaboration has its costs, but the benefits outweigh them. They share a sense of purpose and keep the momentum alive.
Which matters more, the story or how it is told?
Story matters, yes, but the way it unfolds is equally crucial. A great idea can falter if it isn’t developed with care. The craft of storytelling—structure, pacing, and voice—can turn a good concept into something that resonates. A strong script helps, but direction, editing, and performance shape the final experience just as much as the plot itself.
“We aim for gray areas, not black and white.”
Do you write your own screenplays, or do you assemble work from others?
The door stays open. There is interest in collaboration, but the projects must come from us. They rarely do otherwise. The process feels organic, and it’s been enjoyable to work with others even if it sometimes means letting parts of the film go. The work remains a personal journey, and that matters.
What about offers from other writers?
Offers come often, but they seldom persuade. The projects must originate with them, with us. We write a lot, and the process is fulfilling. It’s not about control, it’s about enjoying the ride and the discovery along the way.
Which is more difficult, crafting the script or shaping the film’s puzzle?
Everything has a price. Sometimes the script is the hard part; other times, the editing is the hurdle. There have been moments when the assembly was tricky, and others when the script was the obstacle. Each project brings its own set of challenges and rewards.
Can you share anything about the next film?
There isn’t much to reveal. It won’t be a thriller, more a character-driven story that moves away from the suspense label. It will be a risk, but that’s precisely what makes it compelling. It won’t shy from experimentation, and that excites us.
There might be humor this time?
Yes, there could be humor. It’s about finding freedom within the constraints. It’s a delicate balance, and the change is scary in places. Yet there’s a belief that taking chances is worthwhile.
Does winning many awards pressure you for the next project?
Pressure grows with audience scrutiny. People will watch more closely, so the stakes feel higher. It’s a new phase, and while it can be daunting, it’s a sign of ongoing trust in the work.
“My new movie is a character study, not a thriller.”
Could a writer’s strike happen in Spain like in Hollywood?
A strike seems unlikely here. The industry is small, somewhat disorganized, and historically cautious. Still, the idea of a strong, collective stand is not impossible, and it would reflect a broader conversation about how writers and filmmakers are supported.
Who would you name as a benchmark?
Paul Thomas Anderson serves as a clear reference. Maïwenn, a French director, stands out as well. It’s important to celebrate women directors who are leading impactful work and pushing boundaries.
Would you consider filming in Ciudad de la Luz again in Alicante?
Set work is not the only path, but curiosity could bring it back. While not a priority, the possibility remains open for future needs and explorations.