Originally conceived as a documentary, two Basque directors Aitor Arregi and Jon Garaño have created a gripping moral thriller starring three-time Goya Award winner Eduard Fernández as Marco and two-time Goya Award winner Nathalie Poza as his wife.
Your initial idea was to make a documentary, but it eventually evolved into a fictional film. Can you explain what led to this shift?
We initially aimed to create a documentary about Marco, meeting him regularly since 2006. When he wanted to go to Germany for official papers, we hoped to film the trip, but he chose to go alone. Later, he informed us that he had signed with another film crew, so we couldn’t proceed, we thought the project was over. In 2010, we met Marco again at the San Sebastián Film Festival, and he expressed interest in working with us. We then conducted a three-day interview, resulting in fifteen hours of footage. We also learned that Javier Cercas was writing a book about him. When Marco connected us with Cercas, we found out he was unaware of our project, leading to further disappointment. We realized Marco was blending reality with fiction in his own life, so we decided to create a fictional film about him.
How does the film incorporate your multiple encounters with Marco, even though you’re not physically present in it?
Our presence is reflected in various ways. At the end of the film, Benito Bermejo’s talks about wanting to make a documentary about Marco while he was still alive, highlighting his relevance to society, this is a recreation of our interactions with him. The scene where Marco visits a school mirrors a real event where he attended a film festival and had a conversation with us. We also adjusted the timeline, moving events from 2010 to 2016 in the film. These elements weave our interactions into the film’s narrative.
How can a colossal lie persist for decades without arousing any suspicion? The true but incredible story is that of Enric Marco, a charismatic union leader and for years the president of the Spanish association Amicale de Mauthausen, dedicated to the memory of Holocaust victim...
Did you intend for the audience to have mixed feelings about Marco, and how do you personally judge him?
We want to let the audience form their own opinions rather than judge him ourselves. What intrigued us was Marco’s reaction after being exposed. Instead of retreating or apologizing, he continued to seek admiration, appearing on TV and highlighting his positive traits despite the lies. His need for praise led him to create a heroic persona, which he maintained even after the truth emerged. Javier Cercas compares Marco to Don Quixote, noting their shared delusions. Unlike Don Quixote, who eventually renounces his fantasies, Marco never abandoned his self-image as a hero.
How do you think Marco’s claim of “I did no harm” reflects his historical perspective and legacy?
Marco claimed he never gained financially from his deception and emphasized his work raised awareness about Spanish deportees. There’s truth in that; he did contribute significantly, and that’s something we also show in the film. Marco felt his contributions justified his actions, despite never having been in a concentration camp himself. The film addresses the theme of truth in our post-truth era. Marco’s comparison of his imprisonment to the experiences of deportees illustrates this theme, especially in the final scenes where he defends his version of the truth despite challenges from others like Benito Bermejo.
There’s obviously something unique about Marco’s character. Still, his desire to be a better version of himself reflects a universal theme…
Certainly. Marco is a complex character and easy to judge, but we aim to create films that create debate rather than judgment. The desire to be our best selves is universal, and while Marco took this to an extreme, it reflects a common human trait. As Javier Cercas notes, Marco fashioned a Don Quixote-like life for himself. Despite his deceit, his quest for admiration resonates on a deeper level, a feeling that’s universally relatable. As filmmakers, we’re drawn to such stories because they touch on fundamental human experiences, and our goal is to capture and explore that universal aspect.
In the final scene, there’s a line that suggests your film blends truth with fiction, even as it attempts to depict reality. Aren’t filmmakers also impostors?
Filmmakers condense years of story into just a few hours, making choices on what to include or omit. Some of Enric Marco’s uncomfortable interview details, though interesting, didn’t fit our narrative. Our goal is to shape the truth so it resonates with the audience. While art reflects reality, it’s inherently personal and not an exact replica. Our film starts as a documentary but shifts into fiction, sometimes revealing deeper truths than reality itself. Marco’s themes of vanity and admiration are better explored through cinematic manipulation, which might not have been fully conveyed through direct commentary.
With fifteen hours of interview footage and all your encounters with Marco, what are your plans for this material?
We haven’t thought about it much because we were very focused on the fictional film. We used the interview footage mainly for character insight and to help Eduard Fernández, our lead actor. It allowed him to understand Marco’s psychology and portray the character more authentically. While we haven’t decided on specific future use, the material remains valuable, and there’s potential for additional projects.
What are your expectations for the film’s premiere?
We hope it sparks discussion, as cinema’s power lies in engaging conversations about complex and controversial figures like Enric Marco.
