Antonio de la Torre, a Málaga native born in 1968, has been named a candidate for the Goya Award for Best Supporting Actor for his work in Los destellos. With a total of 15 nominations, he stands one ahead of Penélope Cruz, and the prize has only come his way twice: in 2007 for AzulOscuroCasiNegro and in 2019 for El reino.
In a recent interview, the milestone of becoming the actor with the most nominations in the history of the awards was described as a distinction. He compared himself to a veteran runner who never wins the race but keeps finishing high, noting that while the nominations raise his profile, they do not define the entire arc of his career. He emphasized that only about 8 percent of actors remain regularly active, and this recognition helps keep his name in the public eye until the ceremony night arrives, though he cannot imagine his visibility increasing simply because of 15 nominations.
Looking back at the moment he won the Goya with his first nomination for AzulOscuroCasiNegro, he reflected that it felt like a decisive turn rather than a guaranteed future path. He recalled that year as one where three other talented actors were also in the running, and he thought, in all honesty, that they had a fair shot. At the nominations party, a diploma was handed to each nominee; he kept it as a memento to prove later that he had been in the mix. When he won, he felt like that might be as far as he would go in his career, a belief that gradually softened as life continued to unfold. Over time, the industry’s rhythms become familiar, but that first triumph remained a dream many actors hope to experience, a rare moment he wishes for all his colleagues—even though such moments are scarce.”
Video interview with Antonio de la Torre.
Asked whether becoming the most-nominated actor is meaningful, he answered that it is indeed an honor. He noted that an actor exists in a small cohort who works consistently and that this achievement translates into greater exposure. Still, he believes the nomination itself marks a peak of sorts in visibility, not a final destination, and he does not see himself becoming more visible simply because of the tally of nominations.
In retrospect, winning the Goya on his first nomination did not become a rigid expectation for his career. He recalled the year when he faced strong competition and doubted whether the award would go his way. He treasured the moment and the way photos from the ceremony could be used to document a historic milestone. He also spoke about how, after that initial victory, he learned to accept the unpredictable nature of awards and publicity. He hopes many fellow actors have a chance to experience such a breakthrough, even though it happens only in a small number of cases.
Two years ago he did not receive a nomination and instead ended up presenting the gala. He framed this as a personal choice born out of a sense of obligation to Spanish cinema. He joked that if he were not nominated, he would still have offered to host. The story included a remembrance of Pepe Mujica, illustrating how the loyalty and responsibilities toward cinema and its people drive such decisions. He reflected that public service in this industry is a form of national pride and a way to give back to the community that supported him early on.
“What I take from films is what I learned, not what was shown.”
Speaking about the impact of performing a demanding role, such as Ramón in Los destellos, a man aware he is nearing death, he explained that the experience leaves a lasting imprint beyond the screen. The process can affect physical appearances and the actor’s routine, but the deeper influence comes from the lessons learned through the work. Actors are not simply the light on the screen; they are essential to delivering meaningful narratives, and their craft serves the broader story that resonates with audiences.
Many great actors eventually become a recognizable brand. When asked whether he fears turning into Antonio de la Torre himself on screen, he answered with humor that he tries to stay humble and avoid turning into a caricature. He believes that if others begin to say he repeats himself, it would signal a gap between his ambitions and his achievements, a sign that more work is needed to stay fresh.
He was asked whether not repeating himself is the main challenge for an actor. He suggested that the real challenge is making a living from acting, a reality that only a small portion of his peers can claim. He sees the ongoing goal as continuing to evolve while remaining true to the craft that sustains him and his colleagues who rely on it for a living.
“That an artist, of any kind, speaks politically seems almost inevitable to me.”
Reflections on recent industry trajectories, including Gaudí and Feroz, hinted that political and social advocacy may again surface at the Goya ceremonies. He argued that art inherently serves society and that a true artist bears a responsibility to engage with the world around them. He cautioned that politics in art should not be about dictating votes, but about acknowledging that daily life is political by nature. Even with the reach of modern networks, he maintained that having opinions remains important, even if it invites critique from some corners.
He concluded with a sobering truth: there will always be someone waiting to see what he says in order to attack it. He offered practical wisdom: one should not expect much, either good or bad, from him to avoid inevitable disappointment. In his view, this stance helps him stay grounded while continuing to pursue meaningful work in cinema, regardless of the noise around it.