Catalan director Jaume Claret Muxart explores family ties, the transmission of vocations, and emotional education in his films. Strange River, presented at Venice in the Orizzonti section, follows the journey of a family with three children, aged 7 to 16, cycling along the Danube. With minimal dialogue and great subtlety, the film traces the eldest son’s coming-of-age, navigating uncertainties, desires for emancipation, and fears. Combining autobiography, dance, and architecture, Claret Muxart, in his feature debut, offers a poetic reflection on adolescence, transformation, and emotional relationships immersed in nature.
Your films often explore the intimate dynamics of family and personal journeys. What are the themes closest to your heart, and what did you want to convey in Strange River?
One of my main interests is the relationship between mother/father and children, and how a family can transmit a vocation. I come from an artistic background: my grandfather was a painter, my father an architect. I had the privilege of growing up in that world and witnessing how art and education are passed down from generation to generation. In Strange River I wanted to deliver an idea of a sentimental education – how love can flow from parents to children, and vice versa. There’s a scene in which the protagonist, Didac, says to his father: “I don’t like boys, I like Gerard.” For me, that sentence is political, because it shows how new generations teach their parents new ways of living.
Nature is very present in the film, but so is architecture.
To write certain scenes, I need to physically be in the place where they are set, to find inspiration. That was the case, for example, with the scene shot inside the building designed by Swiss architect Max Bill. I love dance and the choreographic dimension of cinema: that building evoked a ballet for me. I imagined the two boys running through the architectural labyrinth of the building as if they were dancing. I like to think my cinema is closer to dance than to literature – perhaps out of a frustration of not being a choreographer myself… It also contains an autobiographical element. The film is heavily inspired by family cycling trips I took as a child. My father, being an architect, would take us to visit sites while we only wanted to go to the river. During shooting, he was there, explaining the building’s structure to the actors! I wanted to start from reality, from those family trips, and then weave in a lot of fiction.
During a summer along the Danube, fifteen-year-old Dídac travels by bicycle with his family. The encounter with Alexander, an enigmatic figure who appears and disappears in the waters of the river, sparks a profound change within him. His presence unsettles family dynamics: B...
How did the river shape the narrative and the emotional potential of the characters?
The river is highly symbolic. At first, I thought of showing it from the source – small at the beginning and then growing alongside the protagonist. Later, I wanted its evolution to mirror that of the boy: at first shown in close details, then in increasingly wide shots. In the end, it appears vast and calm – but in that very calmness lies danger… It is meaningful to me that the film is screened in Venice, the ultimate city of water.
The film deals with adolescence, desire, and transformation. How did you work with young actors on such delicate themes?
Jan Monter, who plays Didac, was sixteen during filming. Out of 800 candidates, it was clear he was the one: he embodied that fragile passage between adolescence and maturity, with a mysterious quality that fascinated me. We worked together for four months, and then on set I gave him a lot of freedom, encouraging him to invent and take responsibility. With the parents and the other young actors, we built a family spirit by spending weekends together. Francesco Wenz, who plays Alexander, was older – nineteen – and more experienced, and he helped Jan a lot in certain scenes.
Being selected at the Venice Film Festival is a great recognition. How are you experiencing this, and what do you hope the international audience will take away from Strange River?
It was a wonderful surprise. For us, it’s a collective celebration: we’ve become like a family, and the recognition belongs to all of us. I’m curious to sense the audience’s reaction, especially that of young film students who will attend the screenings in Venice. Those close in age to the protagonists may see themselves in the story, while parents may reflect on sentimental education. I hope the audience experiences the film as a sensory journey – made of sounds and feelings tied to rain, wind, heat, the freshness of the river…
