02 · 13 · 26

Gael García Bernal: el cine como ritual y riesgo en MAGALLANES

Alonso Díaz de la Vega

Magallanes (Magalhães, 2025) is, above all, a risk: even though it is not one of Lav Diaz's longest films (it lasts only 164 minutes in the filmography of a director who usually exceeds four hours, and has even reached ten), it has not become more conventional or simple in its themes or forms. The great Filipino filmmaker places the camera in front of the space and the actors and, like a more radical John Ford, leaves it motionless to observe everything as if it were a spectator stunned by the events of 500 years ago, when Ferdinand Magellan began the colonization of what is now the Philippines. The dialogue in the film shows tremendous respect for the audience by allowing us to hear not explanations of the times and motives, but ordinary conversations between characters in completely unusual situations.

The risk, then, is shared by Gael García Bernal, who, being an undisputed star, could have spared himself the implications of making this type of film. Among them, filming in the jungles of the Philippines, with all the climatic challenges that this entails. But, as the Mexican actor told me near the end of the interview: “You have to get your hands dirty to get into cinema.” That is why he also accepted the challenge of acting in Portuguese, a language he does not master. Magallanes, then, is like a new beginning: it is putting himself, despite his entire career behind him, in the place of an amateur (a habit of the Filipino director) and rediscovering cinema.

During the 23rd Morelia International Film Festival (FICM), I had the opportunity to discuss these ideas with the actor, as well as others he contributed, derived from his extensive knowledge of Ferdinand Magellan, whom he studied in order to understand his perspective and his time, and thus lend him his own body. The complete interview, edited for clarity, can be read below.

FICM: I wanted to start with a somewhat silly question, but I think it's important. Why make a film like Magellan? Why collaborate with an author like Lav Diaz, who is such a challenging figure, a director of films that last up to ten hours?

Gael García Bernal:  Well, there were two things that really caught my attention. From the beginning, it was Lav Díaz wanting to make a film about Magellan. It immediately caught my attention and, well, it intrigued me, it made me very curious, and that's when I met Lav and began to understand what he wanted to do—even without having read Stevens' biography of Magellan or anything else about Magellan in depth—because I knew, obviously, about the historical figure, but I didn't have as clear an understanding of him as I did later, when I studied for the role. And I began to become passionate about the story. I never thought about playing Magellan. But also, if asked which historical figure I would have liked to play, I wouldn't have chosen him because I didn't know enough about him. But now that I know, now that he's the character I have to play—because I feel that there's something about his feat, about his journey, that obviously inspires me, challenges me, fascinates me, excites me about the whole story, about the whole history, about everything that happened—but at that particular moment, at that turning point, you could say that the world we know today was born. There, without meaning to, they opened the floodgates to something we are experiencing fully today. And sometimes we don't trace where that moment comes from.

I would also say that Magellan, along with other historical figures, were the first to have that curiosity that led to the cultural mixing from which we come. So, I found it very interesting that they called me to play him, because at first I said, “Well, why me?” Besides, I've never acted in Portuguese. I don't know why me. And honestly, the courage they had, or rather what they saw that I could do with the character... I also saw other layers, which was this thing of “Of course, it has to be a Latin American who plays Magellan, it has to be a mestizo!” Also, if we think about who is going to play Cortés, who is going to play Pizarro, who is going to play all these tragic characters who are in some way responsible for the life we live today, they absolutely have to be Latin American, because that's where we come from, right? I was also very interested for that reason. And for many others: because the story is exciting. And Lav's point of view too. A Filipino making a film about the person who “discovered” the Philippines and where something tremendous happened that is what we know as the Philippines today. Colonization not only in terms of appropriation of territory, but also spiritual.

FICM: That's a topic I wanted to discuss with you: whether it's also the desire to narrate this dispossession, this colonization, that attracts you to the film. Because in the end, I think that's the core not only of this film, but of much of Lav Diaz's cinema.

GGB: Yes, well, the Philippines is a country, in particular, that is in a constant process of decolonization. It is named after Philip II, a king who never went there. There have been historical processes that we have gone through in Latin America, and the Philippines is finding itself in these 7,500 islands that make it up. It is an amazing archipelago. It is also a very important Catholic enclave, the most important in Asia. So, it is a very unique place, and it is important to talk about its history, but also to question it and provoke a very interesting discussion. Who is Lapulapu? Who was this historical figure whom they have placed in a position of ancient glory, when in reality, historically, no one ever saw Lapulapu? So, did he exist or not? This is a very interesting question that Lav raises in the film and one that has had a huge impact in the Philippines. Outside the Philippines, we don't really understand the impact this has, but it's as if someone told us that Miguel Hidalgo didn't exist. Almost, almost.

FICM: Absolutely. Now, moving on to form, Lav tends to shoot with wide shots, very open shots. So I wonder if that forces you to make different decisions than you would if they were closer shots, medium shots. Does your performance become a little more physical?

GGB: Yes, it does influence you. Every film is a universe unto itself, so yes, it does influence you when there's only one or two takes at most, and they're very wide shots. Lav didn't speak Portuguese, for example. So you were doing a scene with someone who didn't understand what we were saying. Sometimes you had to say to him, “Hey, I think we went off on a tangent, because I'd never acted in Portuguese before.” So suddenly it was too much work and too much responsibility. And sometimes I made a mistake and said to him, “We have to do another one, because I didn't say anything.” And he would say, “Oh, really? Oh, well, OK, let's do another one, then.” So there was that component, and yes, it's a very particular kind of cinema, but I don't feel that internally I was doing anything different in terms of how I interpreted the character, how I acted. Every character conditions you, every film conditions you. This one was a beast of its own. Plus, I had a fantastic beard that helped me a lot.

FICM: When you mentioned the beard, the clothing, and so on: that's something that always strikes me about period films. Does that whole aspect of reconstructing a period help you immerse yourself more in the character?

GGB: Period films are fantastic in that sense, because they provide an incredible operatic backdrop to an era where it's not just a superficial aesthetic issue, but rather: why did people dress that way, what was going on, why was it noteworthy? And I came to understand that as I read about the character, about what had happened, about what they were also escaping from, which is really interesting. It's perhaps something that isn't talked about much. Perhaps what they wanted to find was as important as what they were escaping from. They were escaping from intense religious persecution. The triumph of the Catholics throughout the Iberian Peninsula had just taken place and there was tremendous persecution against Jews and Muslims. We lived in a time when freedom was a concept that was in its infancy, from a Western point of view, while in other places it was experienced without that concept being so deeply rooted or rather so well described. Or there was no opposition to the absence of freedom.

There is one character in the story of Magellan who fascinates me in particular: another Portuguese man named Francisco Serrão, who was his friend and went to Ternate, in the Spice Islands. His story is similar to that of Gonzalo Guerrero in Yucatán [a Spanish castaway rescued by the Maya who died fighting alongside them against Pedro de Alvarado]. When an expedition arrives and finds these characters who say, “I am already from here, I already have children, I already have a place in this society, I no longer want to belong to that other mythology from which I come. I have already forgotten that place.” And then there was something in that description that there were no words to describe at the time. What they saw, what they experienced was all based on God. God was the vehicle. Religion was the vehicle for expressing themselves. So they didn't have the words to say how fantastic life was there. It was a crazy contrast. And that was something they were also passionate about. And also, well, the human restlessness and curiosity to go beyond the obvious, as Leono would say, with the Sword of Augury!

FICM: And I think that mystical element is something that is linked to many moments of religious rapture in the film. From your perspective as an actor, how does Lav Diaz construct that kind of thing?

GGB: Well, Lav sets up the camera and we as actors embody the characters. And I know this may sound a bit redundant. Of course, that's what one normally does, but in this case, Lav's cinema doesn't communicate much. So we have to, in our work-vocation, find these characters by embodying them. And that's where I felt and understood several things, and it has happened to me with several characters. I understood things that perhaps from a more sociological, anthropological, or even narrative point of view, I would describe, but it would be like an opinion, and somewhat conclusive. And, on the other hand, embodying the character, there are all the contradictions of the human being that I somehow incorporate into something that I come to understand, if that's the word. And, for example, going back to the lack of words to describe what they were experiencing, when you read the accounts from that time, the narrative, the rhetoric, is not so refined, and sometimes the only adjective they use to describe something is “beautiful.” "The most beautiful sunset. The most beautiful strait we have ever crossed.“ What do we understand when they say ”it is the most beautiful strait we have ever crossed“? That is what Pigafetta writes, ”the most beautiful strait."

There are no words to describe it. Their gratitude to God as they crossed the strait and encountered the ocean we know today as the Pacific. Because what they experienced was that suddenly the water calmed down. I read that for today's explorers—NASA and many other institutions—Magellan is like a hero. And why? Because they argue that reaching the moon is easier than crossing the Pacific. Because at least you know the moon is there, and in the Pacific you have no idea where you are. At that moment, they had no idea how long it would take, how the winds would blow, nothing. And they crossed it on the first try, with a 60% or 70% mortality rate. Many died along the way. It took them about three and a half months to cross the Pacific. They ran out of food, they ran out of everything. So when they arrived at these islands, obviously the messianic fervor came over them. God wants them to be there, right? And that was how they understood the world. We are here for a reason, we are in this place for a reason. That's what's incredible about the Philippines today. It's one of the friendliest countries, perhaps the friendliest of all the countries I've been to. The people are so cool.

And I think that Magellan and his company, when they arrived there and began to talk to them about God—this is known from the accounts of what they experienced—quickly convinced them all. They all said, “Oh, that works for us, that plan is great, that concept of God sounds good. Tell us more about what it's like. Oh, I want to be part of this too. I love it, I love it.” It was so quick that I think they got really excited and said, “Wow, this is amazing.” If Magellan hadn't occupied such a strong position or if there hadn't been a political debate surrounding Magellan since then—because he was considered a traitor by the Crown of Portugal, because the Spanish distrusted him greatly—I think he would now have all the credentials to be a saint for everything he did. Really! He even performed miracles, with the holy child, which is a story I didn't know, but the Holy Child, the figure of the child he brought to the Philippines, is the most important figure of veneration to date.

FICM: Finally, and considering that you did an extraordinary job of exploring this character in his context, the film is not didactic. It's not a conventional story that narrates Magellan's life point by point, but rather a film that sticks to the idea of cinema as a device for showing things. As simple as that. And as complicated as that. So you believe in that? Do you believe in cinema that shows more than it states, than it says, than it explains?

GGB: I feel that I don't belong to any particular creed in cinema. The truth is that I'm very sui generis in that sense. I don't know, maybe I would say that nowadays what bores me the most, or what attracts me the least in cinema, are films designed at a desk and considered to be commercially perfect. What appeals to me the least is cinema that doesn't have many imperfections. And it has to have a very important component, which is a crazy, indescribable ritual that can never be conceived at a desk. It's impossible to achieve that necessary ritual with a good pitch, right? Perhaps my status as an actor makes me less voyeuristic in a certain sense. And I feel that this brings me closer to the idea that you have to get your hands dirty when you go into cinema; in some way, you have to roll around in it. I feel that when it's too voyeuristic, cinema is a somewhat sterile exercise and also a bit exploitative. I feel that it's better to put your body into movies, to be there, to get into it. So, with all this that I'm chaotically elaborating here, I do agree with the fact that it's great to show the tip of the iceberg and not the whole iceberg in cinema. Definitely yes. In principle, yes. But well, it depends on how big the iceberg is, right?