Second Prize: A Conversation on Film, Music, and the Pursuit of Creative Freedom
Jota encountered the singer and guitarist from the band at the premiere, and he was already dreaming of a different kind of movie. He envisioned a conceptual disco-style film about a character who escapes the pain of a broken relationship through art, emotion, and escape routes like drugs and love. A film about a band making an album drew little attention, to the writer’s eyes, because it felt like daily life. He was clear from the start: the goal was to make the movies they wanted with the same freedom they seek when crafting albums. If that freedom wasn’t present, there would be no movie. Even though the final product wasn’t the exact project he had hoped for, it still brought significant success to him and the collaborators.
So, what justified pouring so much energy into this story?
There were several reasons. First, a deep admiration for music. The project offered a chance to spend long periods immersed in collaboration with musicians. Being connected to people from different disciplines sparked cinematic ideas and expanded the creative horizon. The filmmaker was also drawn to a lineage tied to Granada, a thread that runs from Lorca through Val del Omar to Morente, Lagartija Nick, and Los Planetas. This line personifies a brutal shift in how art and life are understood. It represents artists who refuse to repeat clichés, who relentlessly pursue innovation even when it challenges established norms. The aim was to dialogue with this tradition within the film. [Citation: Interview with collaborators on the Granada influence in the project.]
The second motivation highlighted an aspect of the filmmaker as a documentary maker, often overlooked in praise. The project offered an opportunity to acknowledge that role and redeem it in meaningful ways.
The director expressed a strong desire to create a documentary at this moment. Several projects were in progress, with a particular focus on one about flamenco and modernity. A rigorous documentation process helped recreate the Granada of the period, including details that fans of the band Los Planetas would recognize and appreciate. For instance, the Planta Baja venue, where the band held its first concert in its history, burned down; the venue still exists but with a different front and interior, which was preserved as part of the film’s memory. The film also captured the guitar crafted by Dani Báñez, a key instrument used in the album, and the keyboards that Banin played during the recording. Alongside this careful reconstruction, the production embraced other elements that were invented, intuitive, or outright arbitrary, adding texture and nuance to the storytelling. [Citation: Behind-the-scenes notes on gear and locations used in the film.]
David Verdaguer: “If you are not impressed by this movie, you are a rubber or an artificial intelligence”
Rock and roll is a team effort, much like cinema itself. The concept of Second Prize felt inseparable from this reality in a way that resonates with the broader process of collaboration. The film evokes a dynamic that echoes Richard Donner’s expression of enduring partnership: two people who are drawn to each other, who work well together, yet constantly hover on the brink of separation. The feeling endures even decades later. The cast and crew saw a reflection of themselves in the story: a band that wants to make an album, while the filmmakers want to make a movie. They were trying to reach New York for the finale while the budget allowed, and somehow the project managed to reach completion. The album ultimately took shape through a partnership between locations and artists, including a recording and mixing session in New York. York became a symbol of how teamwork anchors both music and film. The collaboration underlined that teamwork remains essential for all involved. [Citation: Participant reflections on the NYC finale and collaborative energy.]
So, does the Second Prize belong to people who are not fans of The Planets? The answer is a clear yes. The shoot itself brought this to light; the crew included technicians across generations and from different countries who did not necessarily know the band, yet they explored its essence with fresh eyes. Friends who weren’t familiar with the planets enjoyed the movie for what it was, regardless of prior expectations. The film proved that income, influence, or fandom do not determine the value of a creative work; curiosity and openness do. [Citation: Onset of universal appeal during production and test screenings.]
Another area of interest was the reception of streaming platforms within cinema. The belief that platforms hurt traditional cinema is challenged by the filmmaker’s perspective. He compares the situation to football, where televised matches complement the on-field experience. Music on a home record player does not negate the energy of a live concert. Some days demand the theater, others the comfort of home. Different environments offer distinct energies, and that distinction is easy to understand. The point is simple: streaming and cinema can coexist, each serving its own purpose and audiences. [Citation: Perspective on media platforms and the coexistence of formats.]
In sum, the project stands as a testament to the power of collaboration, the value of musical inspiration in film, and the constant push for innovative storytelling. It is a reminder that cinema can be a shared journey, where the lines between music and motion picture blur in the best possible way. [Citation: Summary of the film’s overarching themes.]