Ramon Madaula: "Seeing your children lost at 25 is very painful."

BarcelonaIn the mornings, Ramon Madaula (Sabadell, 1962) finds inspiration; every day, for the past ten years, he has dedicated a few hours to writing about what worries him. The actor—well known for his performances in theater, film, and television—made his playwriting debut in 2015 with the political comedy The electedSince then, he has turned that hobby into another branch of his professional career. Madaula is the author of shows such as The Brugarols (2020), Buffalo Bill in Barcelona (2021) and The Buonapartes (2023). Loop, a small-format proposal that dissects the relationship between a father and an adult daughter that won the On el Teatre Batega competition, a tool for independent theaters to find theatrical texts and bring them to the stage. Loop It will be performed at the Sala Flyhard in Barcelona from May 28 to July 25 with Madaula himself in the role of the father and Júlia Genís in that of the daughter.

Loop It shows a father and daughter unable to communicate. Is it an autobiographical story?

— No, no. Ideas come to me from concerns, and from there I try to create a fiction. I've been thinking for a while about the difficulties of communicating with children when they're adults, especially if you live with them. It's difficult to know how to say things without hurting each other, to know how to overcome the inertia and family dynamics you already have within you.

Is communication easier when children have left home?

— Here we're talking about a more or less structured family, where there's love, respect, and care. In that case, when the children leave home, everything is much easier. This isn't an autobiographical work, but I did have three daughters with whom I lived at home until I was 25 or 26. Being a son is much easier than being a father. When you're a father, you have to know the right words to avoid harming, to truly help your children without reverence or pampering them.

How did you experience it at home?

— People told me to prepare for adolescence. Yes, there were some strange nights that made me suffer a bit, but generally everything was pretty peaceful. On the other hand, no one explained to me what happens when the children are adults, they've made their own decisions, and you have to find a relationship to live with. For me, the hardest part of being a parent has been from the time my daughters turned 20. And I understand, because when I was 20, my parents couldn't tell me anything; I was already older, but they still treated me like a child. It's that moment when the children get to know you, they've learned from you, and they see you coming. I tried to reflect this in the play: the daughter's character already knows what my character, the father's character, will say to her, and mine to hers as well. These are beautiful dynamics, and at the same time, very complex to manage.

The father tries to give him advice to prevent him from failing, but he doesn't succeed.

— He's a failure, frustrated because his professional life hasn't gone well, but he tells his daughter she must find a vocation, that she must find her path. Seeing his children lost at 25 is a real pain. Her father insists that she must focus, that she must commit, because he believes he's the best, but sometimes it backfires.

The show pits the father, a man who has built his identity around his craft, against his daughter, a woman who doesn't want work to define her.

— She wants to travel, she likes climbing, she's met a boy and wants to live with him in Tasmania. She may be a little lost, but she's not irresponsible. She knows she lives in uncertainty and precariousness and accepts it; she prefers this to not feeling the pressure of achieving goals. Among today's young people, there are people with a very clear calling, but also others who simply want a decent job, to enjoy life, and to be with those they love. They don't expect more than that.

Didn't that happen in your time? It's impossible for everyone to have a vocation.

— Vocations are very tricky. There are many people frustrated because they can't make a living, and they're very relative; sometimes they just awaken on their own. But before, there was that cult of personality and that pressure to be something, perhaps because our parents came from the postwar period. We had to have a career, a steady job, fulfill obligations, and maintain a financial and professional order as young people. After the 2008 crisis and the pandemic, all of this has disappeared.

In the work, when the father chose sculpture, his mother didn't understand. Now his daughter wants to dedicate herself to tattoos, and he doesn't understand either.

— Sometimes the same patterns are repeated so that parents don't give their children the necessary trust and allow them to make mistakes. As a parent, it's difficult to watch children make mistakes and then let them do so. The loop in the title refers to the fact that they haven't been able to communicate for four generations; they've inherited it.

When you wanted to pursue acting, did your parents understand?

— Nothing, especially my father. It was quite traumatic; I think I'm still reeling from it, even though he's been dead for years. They loved me and wanted the best for me; they made sure I didn't lack anything, but they didn't give me any trust. Sometimes loving each other isn't enough; you need something more. You have to find that emotional intelligence so you can help your child instead of dragging them down.

However, you continued, trained, and have dedicated your entire career to acting.

— In our profession, many people don't have support at home. It's a job I know many colleagues whose parents told them. In short, I could go home for lunch, but with long faces for several years.

Just a year ago you did some statements to Ràdio Estel that raised a storm. "In Catalan theater, there's an oversupply. There are a lot of young people who want to dedicate themselves to this, and there aren't enough jobs for everyone. Perhaps they should consider having a plan B," you said. Have you spoken publicly again since then?

— No, this is the first time. Those statements were taken out of context, and I completely understand why they're irritating, but unfortunately, they're true. If young people want to pursue acting and are truly passionate about it, they should go for it, get training, and try, but they probably won't succeed. And therefore, if they have a plan B, they won't spend their lives frustrated. If you care about young people, you have to tell them this. It seems like if you work hard, you'll succeed, but that's not true. It's a very cruel profession.

Because?

— Because it has nothing to do with merit or talent. Often it has to do with physicality: depending on your physicality, you'll work more or less. I was one of the worst of my generation at the Institut del Teatre, and I'm one of those who worked the hardest. There were people much better than me who didn't get ahead. It's precarious work; it always has been and always will be. We can't expect everyone who wants to dedicate themselves to this to have a job, because there isn't room for everyone. If you don't have an alternative, you can find yourself dragging around a terrible frustration at 35 years old. I've seen many people with this concern.

Is the acting profession idealized?

— It's a very nice job when things are going well, but they rarely go well. You always have to be concerned about pleasing others, being likable, looking good physically, and now with social media even more so. If you don't have I don't know how many followers, you don't do casting calls anymore. You spend all day waiting for others to validate you to the point of being brutally obsessed.

When you were young, you had no plan B.

— No, but in my time it was much easier than it is now. We were just four kids working hard. There was only the Institut del Teatre, there were no other schools; 10 or 15 of us graduated each year, and most of us ended up working. Now there's a lot more to offer, but also such a large roster that it can't accommodate everyone.

You made your debut in playwriting ten years ago, with The elected, and since then you've also been developing a career as a playwright. What does writing bring you?

— Acting fulfills me like never before, but writing has given me a wealth of intellectual wealth. It allows me to educate myself, research, and read a lot. I've missed that in my life. I studied theater, but it wasn't a degree; we just went there to spend the afternoon, and we didn't gain any intellectual development. As an actor, in some projects I've felt like I'm a hired gun. I put in the most enthusiasm possible, but it's the playwright and the director who come up with ideas. Since I started writing, I feel like I've improved as a person; I'm more self-sufficient, and I take on new challenges with ease.