Eduard Fernández: "It's very difficult for people not to dislike the Spanish flag."

BarcelonaCoinciding with the fiftieth anniversary of the death of dictator Francisco FrancoMovistar Plus + premieres the miniseries this Thursday Anatomy of a MomentThe series examines the attempted coup of February 23rd and the tensions of the preceding months. Adapted from Javier Cercas's novel of the same name, it focuses on three main characters: Adolfo Suárez, Manuel Gutiérrez Mellado, and Santiago Carrillo, played by Eduard Fernández.

Anatomy of a Moment It reconstructs the events of February 23rd, a moment that seems very distant to a segment of the current population. Are series like these necessary for educational purposes? And should they be?

— I don't know if they should or not. Many people ask me why they should watch this series, and, to begin with, we all watch a lot of series, and I think this one turned out well, it's good. So it's worth watching because, as a series, it's good. Then, another issue is the subject matter: a moment in Spanish history, the failed coup of February 23rd. It's based on the book by Javier Cercas, who did a lot of research and wrote about what he had verified facts. When we went to the Fsummer in San Sebastián There were younger people, around 30 years old, who didn't really know what was going on. The series features a very prominent voice-over, bold music, and a captivating pace. Personally, I think that now, when some young people say they prefer dictatorship to democracy, it's a good time to learn about it. The series clearly explains what Santiago Carrillo, Adolfo Suárez, and Manuel Gutiérrez Mellado did to prevent the coup and establish democracy.

How did you approach a historical figure like Santiago Carrillo?

— I watched a lot of videos and interviews. I approached it through physical appearance. They suggested I shave my head, but I dismissed the idea because I thought, "Damn, now I'll have to go around with a shaved head for a whole year." Actually, I didn't do much: I pulled my hair back and kept it neatly styled; and I noticed I barely had any lips, they were like a straight line. I tried to create this straight line by putting cotton in my mouth, and it's true that it makes your jaw look wider. I tried to capture the spirit of someone who spoke more slowly, more calmly, and who smoked all the time.

I understand that it's about finding the right balance so as not to fall into parody, right?

— For the result to have humanity, there has to be something between the actor and the character. Otherwise, when you do too much imitation—and we've seen many excellent examples—it becomes a parody that lacks humanity. The aim was to see Carrillo in his most intimate moments, like when they call at home and tell him, "Franco is dead." It was one of the scenes I was eager to film: to see how someone who had to live in exile for 30 years feels. I think it perfectly conveys the pain he felt at not being able to be at home.

You lived through the coup and now you've relived it. How do you remember that moment?

— I remember I was at home, on Provença Street in Barcelona. I was attending the Institut Balmes at the time, repeating my second year of high school. My father told me, "Don't leave the house, there's been a coup." I vividly remember the phrase, "The tanks have rolled out in Valencia." This terrified me because I wondered if the tanks would appear on the Diagonal. I was so scared; it was like going back many years. I think they did what they could, with the military behind them. What I find a shame is that a second Transition didn't happen later on, when it was already possible. Santiago Carrillo had to swallow a lot: the flag, the unity of Spain, and the king. I regret that the Spanish flag wasn't changed in some way, that they didn't put it diagonally or something like that. It's very difficult for people not to dislike the Spanish flag because it's so closely associated with Francoism, even today.

Do you understand, therefore, that many people have a critical view of the Transition?

— Yes, yes, I understand. The thing is, Cercas works with the material he has and knows to be true. Many people would like to suspect, or already suspect, the king. Here, his figure remains ambiguous, but Cercas doesn't invent anything; everything is verified. It's true that many documents haven't been released and some have been lost. But when documents are lost, we all know why. Be that as it may, democracy was established in Spain and the Communist Party was legalized, which cost Santiago Carrillo dearly, only to have it later claimed that it could have been done differently. I do get the feeling that there's a certain post-Francoist legacy that still lingers and that the justice system is the way it is. Too many things haven't evolved enough yet. Forty years of Francoism weigh heavily.

There is a phrase that the military personnel in the series say quite often: "This didn't happen under Franco." When you feel that there are still people who say this phrase or "Life was better under Franco", what do you think?

— It makes me really sad, basically. Or angry. I think it's ridiculous. I just don't understand it. Maybe some people were better off under Franco, but I don't know if that many were, and I don't know if everyone who says so actually lived better. I understand someone wanting the dictatorship back if they want to rule personally and have everyone do what they want, but otherwise, it seems to me that wanting someone to boss you around and tell you what to do all the time shows a lack of self-esteem.