Director Eduardo Casanova, born in Madrid in 1991, appears in Sitges dressed entirely in pink, a hue that defined the palette of his latest film, La piedad. The film blends melodrama with bold, almost hypnotic visuals, a style that could earn recognition at auteur festivals like Karlovy Vary or Austin’s Fantastic Fest. The narrative centers on the suffocating bond between a mother and her son, a dynamic that becomes a mirror for the corrosive grip of addiction. Through the mother, played by Angela Molina, and her son, portrayed by Manel Llunell, La piedad builds a parallel family drama set against a stark, fictional North Korea. It is a film about motherhood, fear, and the fragile line between desire and freedom, presented in a Sitges entry distinguished by its wild energy and singular voice.
What does it mean to win at two opposite festivals in principle, Karlovy Vary and Austin? And now here in Sitges?
It represents a curious journey. Festival programmers often encounter works that resist easy classification. Audiences react in unpredictable ways when they see this film, which blends melodrama with a bold, unclassifiable temperament. It feels like poetic justice that the project has traveled to varied stages, and that experience is something the filmmaker values highly.
La piedad focuses on an unhealthy mother-child relationship, and also on the toxicity of addiction between people.
The film investigates the search for freedom and the unsettling realization that true liberty can feel impossible. When a relationship ends, the urge to break away often collides with fear, leaving an unbearable ache. The writer-director explores this tension from a personal lens, hoping the story resonates and perhaps changes how viewers think about love, dependence, and escape.
How autobiographical is the movie? It feels deeply personal, as if the lead character reflects an alter ego.
There is a strong personal thread throughout the film. The work draws from intimate experiences, fears, and pains, shaping both the mother and son characters. While much of the material is drawn from the director’s life, the film also channels broader human experiences that many viewers will recognize in their own stories.
“I can’t imagine a life without a movie theater. It has saved my life several times”
Is pain, suffering, one of your creative engines?
Pain often fuels the creative process. It is the raw material from which many scenes are forged. The filmmaker uses distress as a tool to uncover truths that science or reason alone cannot reach. Cinema has been a lifeline and a source of solace, repeatedly proving its power to heal and reveal.
Why is this story parallel to the North Korean family and the figure of Kim Jong-il?
Death and legacy haunt many lives. Motherhood is a reflection of that fear, a drive to leave something enduring. Leaders, like dictators, leave a personal continuity that outlives them. The director uses this parallel to examine power, control, and memory, while reaffirming that filmmaking itself offers a form of immortality without causing harm to others.
Do you want to drive?
Unconsciously, the filmmaker seems to create to remain present after passing, a private impulse perhaps selfish, yet deeply human. The act of making films becomes a way to stay connected with life beyond the present moment.
Afraid that your comparison between some mother-child relationships and the North Korean dictatorship might be disturbing?
Such comparisons sparked concern, and the filmmaker welcomes dialogue. The aim is not to generalize motherhood but to highlight different forms of maternal experience. The film presents characters with varied lives and perspectives, including women whose paths diverge from the central maternal figure. A woman is free to choose her own path, and the story reflects that diversity.
Where does this aesthetic admiration for the North Korean regime come from?
The filmmaker studied cinema in Cuba and grew interested in the idea of leadership. Dictatorships reveal complexity and an obsession with control, sometimes creating a colossal cinematic world. The director explores similar themes while ensuring no harm comes from the portrayal, and he emphasizes that the aim is to reflect rather than imitate real-world violence.
“I think queer voices can contribute strongly to horror and genre cinema.”
How important is the queer perspective in genre cinema and horror?
It matters a lot. There are remarkable directors who bring new life to the genre. More women and LGTBI filmmakers are essential to expanding the frame, exploring fear through authentic voices. The filmmaker identifies as LGTBI and believes storytelling should address broader human fears, not just identity, so the horror feels universal.
Does the filmmaker look for himself in his work, or does he observe others?
Both approaches coexist. The aim is to offer something fresh rather than recreate what has already been seen. Inspirations come from real life and from a mix of humor, darkness, and punk sensibilities. The result is cinema that speaks from lived experience rather than borrowed tropes.
Why the pink obsession, a color that dominated the filmmaker’s earlier feature Pieles?
Pink anchors the director’s cinema. It marks a willingness to confront discomfort and complexity. The color functions as a bridge between tenderness and trouble, a personal signature that invites viewers to meet at a shared threshold of emotion.
“The most democratic people will always choose to watch my movies, but if someone from VOX is interested in watching them, I’ll applaud them.”
Was there regret over comments about VOX voters not watching La piedad?
Regret would imply a change in belief. The filmmaker stands by the stance that cinema belongs to everyone, and if someone from VOX is curious to see the film, that is a welcome moment of dialogue and understanding.
Does it upset you that online discourse turns into trends, as in other recent cases on social media?
Public conversation can be loud and unpredictable. The filmmaker believes in the right to speak freely while recognizing the need to engage with sensitivity and nuance. The core goal remains to present authentic art that invites reflection and discussion.