Paula Ortiz’s latest film, Teresa, debuts this Friday and approaches the figure of Teresa of Christ in a distinct, contemporary way. The cast includes Blanca Portillo and Asier Etxeandia, with an Aragonese production team co-writing the screenplay alongside Juan Mayorga and Javier García Arredondo. The project stands out as one of the season’s most anticipated releases.
Not Teresa and St. Theresa… Why?
Actually. There are several reasons. First, the filmmakers aim to uncover the woman behind the labels that history sometimes places on her, before any saintly designation. Second, both Juan Mayorga and the director, along with most of the crew, do not share the Catholic faith, though they hold a profound affection for Teresa as a character. The film narrates a woman who faces a sequence of pivotal choices at a moment of heightened personal significance and tests her conscience as she seeks meaning and grapples with existential questions that define her experience as a woman. It centers on the human dimension above all else.
As previously noted, the director first encountered Teresa during a memorable moment in a theater course in Albarracín. Rosendo Tello encouraged a reading of the text in near-darkness to absorb the power of the poetic word. The encounter with Santa Teresa proved to be deeply affecting. The movie explores a heroine who is astonishing in her own right. The flights into Castilian mysticism are rarely seen in cinema because they feel far from the present, yet on a sensorial level they reveal a kind of knowledge about inner and outer experience that resonates and challenges the viewer. Teresa’s voice and actions have long inspired the director as a poet, shaping the artistic journey across a lifetime.
Teresa is portrayed as a figure who embodies silence, yet remains one of history’s most controversial characters, even today.
Indeed, the film reflects how she was nearly burned at the stake, yet was elevated to sainthood, a symbolic crest earned for political purposes by empires past. She lived as a paradox: a reformer who sparked conflict, then became a symbol of Catholic devotion. For decades, she has represented shifting narratives — from national Catholicism under a dictatorial regime to feminist readings in contemporary times. Teresa embodies the tension of her era: radiant and controversial, a catalyst for change whose words and actions continue to illuminate disparate audiences across time. The co-writer Juan Mayorga emphasizes that what he has to say about her matters more than any preconceptions about him. His presence remains a compelling force within the project, and there are few cultural figures who can be described with such certainty.
Is silence revolutionary?
Silence stands as one of Teresa’s most potent and valuable ideas. It unsettles the structures of power within the Court and the Church, and even challenges the Inquisition, the most militant expression of control in history. The narrative shows how a group of twelve women in a house in Ávila chose to live under a new norm: to seek freedom through quiet reflection, without intermediaries, without priests, and with an equal rule for all. The act of silent questioning becomes a transformative force, so disruptive that the mere possibility of autonomy unsettles those who fear losing control. The power of silence, expressed through restraint, remains deeply revolutionary.
All of this grows from absolute doubt.
Doubt drives Teresa, a woman who questions constantly. The film begins and ends with a simple, direct question: Do you ever doubt, Teresa? She embodies faith tempered by relentless self-scrutiny and a relentless critique of the world. Doubt becomes the engine of progress, a shield against dogmatism and totalitarianism. A doubter cannot be a tyrant, and that tension fuels the film’s core inquiry.
“As Mayorga notes, what he has to say matters more than what we say about him.”
How does cinema emerge from silence?
It results in a restrained, mostly silent film that relies on carefully placed words. Teresa is a profoundly contradictory character who sparked a revolution through silence yet never stopped speaking and writing. Her searches are physical as much as spiritual, and the most intimate thoughts are translated into tangible, sensual experience. The production spent meaningful time at a monastery in Toro, Zamora, to observe the living conditions and intellectual debates of the nuns. The experience revealed a community that was rigorous, thoughtful, and deeply respectful. The reflections captured on screen carry a motionless and contemplative quality that embodies a deliberate, almost meditation-like approach to storytelling. The director sought to convey how different religious practices share universal tools—breathing, stillness, and body awareness—in the pursuit of a different state of perception, a shift toward a higher plane of awareness, and even a sense of sky above.
Blanca Portillo takes on the role of Saint Teresa, the mystic nun who founded the Discalced Carmelites: “What’s interesting is her doubts.”
The film centers on the remarkable performances of Blanca Portillo and Asier Etxeandia. Was it clear from the beginning that they would be the leads?
The script was crafted with them in mind. Almost a decade ago, when Mayorga’s play was still in development, a rough script was read aloud to test the voices of the characters. It was a stark exercise that revealed how comprehensible 16th-century Spanish would be, and the reaction was intense. Since then, the project has been tailored around these two actors. They are performers of extraordinary range who command their presence, bodies, voices, words, and silences with deft authority. Their long-standing friendship and mutual respect create a powerful dynamic that fuels the film’s energy. Their collaboration is a rare privilege to witness.
“It seems to me a revolutionary idea that 12 women living in Ávila could fear silence to such an extent that they might tremble at thoughts they cannot contain.”
Eight years of development confirm the project’s resilience.
The film is not a conventional romance or thriller but a study of existential doubt and the dialectical struggle with the self. The journey traverses every height and the deepest night, guided by questions that pull viewers toward the abyss. It remains a deeply human exploration that doesn’t chase fashion but asks essential questions, a factor that contributed to its high production costs and, in the end, its worthiness. The audience can gauge this by observing the reception as it widens its reach.
Shall the film claim awards?
The year is competitive, featuring major productions and high-profile talent. The outcome remains uncertain, and it is unclear which projects will emerge as winners.