Toni Soler: "We can't speculate about who killed Kennedy and not about what happened to Jordi Pujol."

BarcelonaToni Soler i Guasch (Figueres, 1965) began writing the script for Parenostre, the film about the Pujol case, in the spring of 2020, in the midst of the pandemic. Five years later, he eagerly awaits its premiere, April 16. Directed by Manuel Huerga and starring Josep Maria Pou (Jordi Pujol), Carme Sansa (Marta Ferrusola), and Pere Arquillué (Jordi Pujol Ferrusola), Parenostre It's a fiction based on real, recent, and sensitive events: how the Pujol family copes with their descent into hell when it's revealed they have money in Andorra. A brave exercise that will dominate Catalan political conversation in the coming weeks.

The last Champions League Barça won was in 2015, and it coincides with your 50th birthday party. Will there be a party for your 60th?

— I don't know, I'm not as motivated as I was at 50. At 50, I was eager to celebrate and share; 60 makes me less excited and a little more lazy. On the other hand, I know that if I don't celebrate, I'll still feel bad, because things have to be celebrated. And if there's a Barça Champions League on the line, it's an added incentive.

What would you say has changed for you in the last ten years?

— I've noticed a certain physical decline, a drop in energy, in vitality. I feel worse, generally speaking. From 40 to 50, everything went very well, from 50 to 60, not so much. And then there's the usual syndrome of saying that you have to make the most of this coming decade because you never know what might happen. Therefore, this horrible verb "make the most of it," which luckily young people never have to conjugate, we do have to conjugate.

What if I expand the question and ask you how Catalonia has changed over the last ten years, from 2015 to 2025?

— I think we've gone from a state of hope, or rather, expectation, to a state of normalcy for some and frustration for others. I fall into the latter category. I can't say this hasn't affected me. Aside from the emotional and other toll the issue of the Catalan independence process has taken on me, I now have to get used to living without feeling so involved and affected by my surroundings. Trying to live a life... as Joan Maria Pou put it?

A small life.

— I don't know if it's a small life, but I do need to focus more on my immediate surroundings, because my view of Catalonia and the world right now isn't too encouraging. On the other hand, in 2015 or even before, when the ARA was launched, those were times of giving it our all, of trying to make a difference. Now I believe that making a difference is up to others.

In 2015, your 50th birthday coincides with the Pujol case being made public, and your 60th birthday now coincides with the release of the film Parenostre, which you wrote and produced. What is the ultimate meaning for you of having done so?

— The question is why it hasn't been done before, or why we haven't had to fight with other people to do it. He's the great figure of our time, Pujol, and he opens the door to two very important issues: one is the way we understand politics, public management, what is ethical and what isn't, and the other is the conflict between Catalonia and Spain. And at the epicenter is a transcendental figure, with many layers, very compelling, and who, moreover, becomes a tragic character. I don't want to say a victim. Tragic, because the interaction between his legacy and what happened to him in 2014 generates a personal drama, which doesn't make him a victim or exonerate him from any of the blame anyone might want to attribute to him. I'm especially interested in how he's had to handle it.

The film was shot in late 2023 and is being released now. When was the last time you saw it, and what did you think?

— It's a film we've worked on a lot between the end of filming and now. It was shot on a soundstage, with virtual backgrounds. The work done afterward is extraordinary, and the narration is masterful, because the script was so verbose and detailed. It's a film that almost demanded more from us after shooting than before.

How are you sleeping these last few days?

— I always sleep poorly. It's a natural response. I'm someone who lives with anxiety, restlessness, and insomnia. It's brought me good things, but also bad things. I sleep with the pill and have trouble getting to sleep. So, I haven't noticed a difference. I'm eager to see how people respond.

Is this the time you are most anxious before a premiere?

— I don't know, because I still haven't gotten used to it. Seeing the room full of people looking at it, I suppose, will leave a certain impression on me. I don't know what those affected or the Catalan political class will think, but I'm calm. The work is done, for me it's well done, and it will spark debate and comments against it, which should be as welcome as those in favor. That's what it's all about: in Catalonia, we debate what's important. What can't happen is that we don't say anything more about Pujol, because he's too important a figure.

Why do you think you haven't had to fight with more people who also wanted to make this film?

— To begin with, a film in Catalan with a strictly Catalan theme is difficult to finance. The second difficulty, which I believe is common in Catalonia and Spain, is the fear or laziness of addressing controversial current issues. In Spain, I believe a film is currently being made about the 23-F (F) referendum, which happened more than 40 years ago. There are no films or series about the present or the more recent past.

And in Catalonia, what's the latest film to tackle a controversial topic of the day?

— The 47? But The 47 It happened in the 1970s. Very important things have happened in Catalonia in the last 10 or 20 years. We've talked about it in books or documentaries, but we haven't made fiction. And fiction is a very good way to deal with issues. In the case of Parenostre It's a fiction based heavily on documentary evidence; I think it's very well documented. But obviously, fiction means looking through the lens of what people in the Pujol household are thinking and saying when the news of the family's tax fraud breaks. It's good to do this exercise; we should talk about ourselves.

When was the last time you spoke with President Pujol?

— It was a while ago. A few months ago, he wrote me a letter and underlined an article of mine in the ARA. "What you're saying here is of some interest. If you want, we can meet and talk." I said to myself, "He wants to talk about the film." I thought it was a strategy. He's a 94-year-old man, and I didn't want to miss any opportunity to see him, and we agreed to meet on March 25th, I think. But 10 days before, they wrote to me to say the meeting was canceled, without any explanation.

Do you think President Pujol will see the film?

— I don't know, it's not meant for him to see, nor for him to stop seeing. Not for him, nor for those closest to him. This is absolutely secondary and shouldn't affect us. We're not making it for them, nor are we making it against them. We're making it for the country. For the country's viewers.

Why do you think it's important for Catalonia to have a film about the Pujol case?

— Because we must be self-referential. It can't be that so many people speculate about who killed Kennedy and not about what happened to Pujol. A figure so central to the lives of our parents and ourselves. And second, because duality fascinates me: the good are bad, the bad are good, the strong are weak, the best make mistakes, the bold falter. And in Pujol's case, it's obvious. The fact that we have a Pujol the activist, a Pujol the statesman, a Pujol the banker, a Pujol the messianic leader, and a Pujol the fraudster, for me, are not watertight compartments. All these facets not only don't contradict each other, but they explain each other. This happens with Pujol and it happens with most of us. Telling this story helps me understand human nature, my own nature.

One of the final scenes in the film shows Jordi Pujol imagining the Barcelona street that would have been named after him. Could it still be the case that Jordi Pujol has a street in Barcelona?

— Yes, I think that in recent years there has been a process of a certain gradual rehabilitation of Pujol. The heirs of Convergència, Junts, have contributed, but so has President Illa, who received him at the Palau and who has a very strong sense of institutionality. Therefore, I have no doubt that when the time comes, Pujol will receive a presidential farewell. Something that seemed impossible 10 years ago, when they tore down the bust he had in Premià and you said: "They want to erase this man from their memory." Now we've gained perspective. I don't know if it will be a street or something, but I think Pujol's memory will not be based on the events of 2014.

I remember the last interview I did with Jordi Pujol –The guest, year 2012– said: "I still have time to ruin my biography." Now he could say: "I still have time to fix my legacy"?

— It cannot be denied that he has shown great courage. A courage that some would call arrogance. He has been making his presence felt in places, he has been doing so gradually, as media pressure has abandoned him, especially after the Spanish media saw that the mission had been accomplished and that the Procés had gone to shit, and they became unconcerned. I think he is a person with courage and, above all, an obsession with being present in public life, which still remains with him now at his age.

If you could make one last-minute change to the film, what would it be?

— I'm a pretty dumb moviegoer. I have to keep asking Laura what happened; I need it pre-cooked, and that's affected me as a screenwriter. I think some things are too pre-cooked. Even though I'm almost 60, I'm a debutant screenwriter. If I write another script, which I doubt because it's been a long ordeal, this is one of the lessons I've learned.

How would you feel about dedicating the last years of your professional life to politics?

— I thought about it at one point, in the midst of the euphoria of the Procés. I wanted to be more involved, I wanted to know what was happening. And when Francesc-Marc Álvaro, who we're friends and both come from journalism backgrounds, entered politics, I immediately called him to find out. I think most politicians work a lot more than I do, and I don't know if I want to work more than I do. You have to have a certain amount of optimism and hope, and that's not the phase I'm in.

Will the thorn remain stuck in your side?

— Yes, but I have many, eh. We all do. There are a thousand things in life you'd like to have done, places you'd like to go, people you'd like to be with. Life is a constant choice, and for people like me, it's the worst punishment: the choice. But for me now, politics is a closed door.

Can I ask you the last time you were offered to enter politics?

— I don't remember the date. I've been offered it a couple of times. Aside from a very clear threat of divorce on the table, I thought I wouldn't know, that I wasn't interested enough, that most meetings would seem like a bore. I tried to visualize it and saw that I wouldn't be happier and that I wouldn't do well. I wouldn't have made a good politician.

We're done. Want to tell me a song you've been listening to lately, or should I just play Genesis?

— I listen to Genesis regularly; it's like a musical placebo in my life. I've been listening to the Ludwig Band a lot lately. I find them very entertaining, and their musical work is very American.

The last words are yours.

— Nothing, how are you?

It would make for a long conversation. We can switch roles any time you like.

— No, I don't know how to do interviews. It's fine if you do it; God didn't call me that way.