“You Cannot Impose Your Desire”: Albert Serra Discusses Afternoons of Solitude, Bullfighting, and Kristen Stewart

      Note: This interview was initially published as part of our coverage for the 2024 festival. "Afternoons of Solitude" premieres in theaters on June 27.

      In "Afternoons of Solitude," Catalan director Albert Serra returns to Spain for his first documentary, which offers a graphic portrayal of celebrity bullfighter Andrés Roca Rey and the bulls he kills. Through close-up shots, Serra’s camera provides an unprecedented intimate view of this extreme sport. Outside the bullring, Roca Rey moves through limousines and vacant hotel rooms, embodying a surprisingly melancholic, almost tender figure. Without any explicit commentary or critical analysis, "Afternoons of Solitude" emerges from a natural curiosity about violence and the seemingly irrational pursuits of those who plunge into life-threatening situations, risking everything for little reward. While Serra dismisses the notion that it is a “masculine” act, bullfighting—with its traditional attire and dramatic elements—manifests as a peculiar anachronism, a ghost of old values and cultures that haunt contemporary Spain.

      I spoke with Serra at the Festival de Nouveau Cinéma in Montreal. We delved into the enigma of Roca Rey, the heritage of bullfighting as an art form, the perceived masochism of bulls, his editing techniques, and his upcoming collaboration with Kristen Stewart.

      The Film Stage: I heard that Andrés Roca Rey was recently gored by a 3,000-pound bull and had to be hospitalized.

      Albert Serra: I’m not any more informed than you are. In the film, there’s always a sense of impending disaster. He does get injured a bit in the film, and towards the end, I incorporate a foreboding musical cue when he exits the coliseum to emphasize that something can always happen.

      Throughout the film, there are instances where he narrowly avoids serious injury, appearing astonished that he has survived. He seems to be overwhelmed, stumbling over his thoughts about luck.

      He is quite enigmatic. Roca Rey takes bullfighting as a duty, as a tradition. It’s a means for him to express himself artistically. Yet, I find it hard to fully grasp him. Each documentary represents a research endeavor, an effort to understand something elusive. Going into this project, I tried to set aside any preconceived notions of who Roca Rey was. I depend on the camera to uncover what our eyes cannot perceive and what our minds struggle to comprehend. By the end of the film, my understanding of Roca Rey is as enigmatic as that of the audience. Naturally, I edited the film and captured hours of footage, but my insight into Roca Rey remains as mysterious as yours. I hardly interacted with him beyond a brief courtesy lunch during filming.

      I’ve heard that when Hemingway first witnessed a bullfight, he brought his pregnant wife in hopes that it would impact their unborn child. What was your introduction to bullfighting?

      I don’t recall; I was very young. Bullfighting was quite prevalent in Spain, especially in rural areas. However, it was different from the bullfighting depicted in the film; it felt more provincial, more folkloric. During my first exposure, I wasn’t particularly captivated or scared, perhaps because the bull was smaller. My impressions from more recent times while preparing and shooting the film are much stronger. Watching Roca Rey’s fights left me in shock—I had to cover my eyes due to the fear. He took such tremendous risks in the arena. People around me were joking about my nervousness, implying that I was overly anxious for him.

      I find the complexity of these grand performances to be far more compelling. It serves as evidence of the essence of life. At one point, a character tells Roca Rey, “Life has no value!” You must disregard life and the risks associated with losing it if you wish to achieve greatness. Merely preserving life holds no intrinsic worth. This is the core of corrida [bullfighting]. There’s indeed a creative outlet for the torero [bullfighter]. Cinema captures the unique beauty of corrida by connecting it to concepts of space, time, dance, and movement. I feel privileged to have studied corrida through a camera; I’ve witnessed it in a manner few others throughout history have. No one else has had access to digital technology to record these images or the sound technology to capture these sounds. I’ve spent more hours shooting and editing it than anyone else. I’m not claiming superiority over any critic or aficionado, but I hold a unique perspective that past individuals lacked.

      The artistic heritage of bullfighting is extensive. You have Hemingway, but also Goya, Manet, Dalí, Francesco Rosi—

      And Picasso, Francis Bacon, Bataille, Michel Leiris… pardon me.

      I was curious how this artistic lineage influenced your own methodology.

      While I was shooting, it didn’t influence me at all. When filming, the images dictate the