A crazy Dream

From 1975 to 1982 political activity and the events that took place were so important that professional matters were relegated to the back burner. One needed to work and make money to cover basic needs, but the celebration, the excitement, emotion and passion were out there on the street.

The Referendum, the elections, the legalization of political parties, electoral campaigns, the 23-F (date of the military coup d'état) and many other events changed Spain. The people of our generation feel as though we were protagonists in all these events. My life at the side of Carmen Rico Godoy was an ongoing experience at the forefront of all that was going on in Madrid in that time. The first socialist meeting in Canillejas, with Francois Mitterrand, Mário Soares and Felipe González, the presentation of the CNT (National Confederation of Labor) in San Sebastián de los Reyes, the festivities of the PCE (Spanish Communist Party) in the Casa de Campo and demonstrations against fascism, ultra-rightwing terrorism, etc., caused our lives to fluctuate between extreme joy and sadness.

At the professional level, I continued to intensify my work as a distributor and produced two films about which I am very proud: "La viuda andaluza" (The Widow from Andalusia) and "La verdad sobre el caso Savolta" (The Truth about the Savolta Affair).

LA VIUDA ANDALUZA

During this period, I was in constant contact with journalists from the magazineCambio 16. One of them, Xavier Domingo, had written a very comical and rude book based on "La lozana andaluza" (The Portrait of Lozana: The Lusty Andalusian Woman), the picaresque novel by Francisco Delgado about which Vicente Escrivá had just made a successful film. Inspired by that book and at my request, Francisco Betriu (whom I met after placing a magazine ad for his first film "Corazón solitario") wrote a hilarious script that we ultimately turned into a musical with original songs by Luis Eduardo Aute. Bárbara Rey made her debut as leading actress and part of an extraordinary cast which Tod Browning would have wanted for his horror flick "Freaks" (1932). We filmed for two months at the Ritz Hotel in Barcelona where I discovered the concerts of the musical group, La Trinca in Canet, and made new friends including Maruja Torres.

A magnificent review was published inCambio 16on "La verdad sobre el caso Savolta" (The Truth about the Savolta Affair), which I read and later met the author, Eduardo Mendoza, in New York, where he was working as an interpreter.

At the time, Antonio Drove was highly regarded and recognized as a talented director by some film critics and technicians, particularly by the group known as "Los Argüelleros". His prestige was supported by an excellent short film he made, "Caza de brujas" (Witch Hunt), which was banned by the management of the Escuela de Cine. He also directed a comedy for José Luis Dibildos. I asked him to write the screen adaptation and direct "La verdad sobre el caso Savolta". After a year of writing the script, with Antonio Larreta, and a complicated editing process of what was a co-production with Italy and France, we embarked on one of the most ambitious projects in Spanish cinema, from a creative and financial point of view, of the 1970s. It was a movie I wish I could make over now because, at the time, it was too big for me as a producer. I financed it with the income from two film purchases: "Padre Padrone" and "Libertad sexual en Dinamarca". In order to produce the movie, I set up a production company, Domingo Pedret, S.A., and a distribution company, Cinema 3, S.A. together with several partners from Barcelona, with Juan Torras, from the famous company Torras-Hostench, amongst them.

LA VERDAD SOBRE EL CASO SAVOLTA

The filming was very problematic, with serious differences between Pedret and Drove; they were eventually resolved. When the movie was finally released, those who saw it have praised it ever since. Most likely, this film marked and conditioned Antonio Drove's future as a filmmaker. Despite news media reports about differences between us, I always felt great affection for Antonio and considered him to be an excellent professional. Whenever the opportunity presented itself, I have expressed my interest in working with him again. In fact, we hired him years later as co-scriptwriter for the screen adaptation of "El embrujo de Shanghai" (The Shanghai Spell) which he started writing with Víctor Erice.

My relationship with Diego Santillán, the loosening of censorship in Spain and the commercial success of erotic films from abroad, encouraged me to produce "Silvia ama a Raquel" (Silvia loves Raquel), a story about two lesbians. One of the leading characters was Violeta Cela, who later on worked with me in "El año de las luces" (The Year of Enlightenment) and in the 1990s became famous as a promoter of erotic telephone lines. The finishing touch of a decade of blunders as a producer came when "confused and influenced" by bad company, I produced a monstrosity of a film, stupid and lacking in substance, called "Cocaína" (Cocaine). It was an homage to photographer Julio Wizuete, whose wife died in a car accident on Km 301 of the road between Madrid and Andalucia in which I too had been involved. I don't recall having ever seen the film, which was never of interest to me and I still don't understand how I could have produced it.

SILVIA AMA A RAQUEL

I have always thought that producers and directors should never develop a relationship or friendship with film critics. It is the only way of mitigating your anger towards them, of not conditioning their work and, as actor Santiago Segura would say, to avoid quarrels with buddies. My case with Miguel Rubio was an exception. We used to live very near one another and we both loved Real Madrid. Besides, Miguel was a socialist and we shared that important sentiment. One day Miguel received a telephone call from Ramón Mendoza, a famous wealthy entrepreneur who, at the time, was being condemned byCambio 16for being a collaborator and covering for Russian spies. Mendoza was interested in getting to know the socialist leaders who were opponents of the UCD government and also wanted to become president of the Real Madrid soccer team. He thought that Miguel could help him in attaining both goals. To obtain his collaboration, he offered to go into business with him. Miguel asked for my advice and help to offer Mendoza something from which we might both profit. I suggested that he propose to Mendoza to finance the purchase of foreign films. Shortly after, we set up a new company, Intercine. Mendoza brought José Luis Ballvé, the owner of Campofrío, into the company. He made space available for us at his offices on Avda del Generalísimo Street, which space we were supposed to share with the sons of well-known communist Santiago Carrillo, Azcárate and Jorge Lacasa, all of them "Russian children" (Spanish children sent to Russia during the Spanish Civil War). 

But it didn't take Mendoza long to start suspecting, and rightly so, that Miguel and I were little more than a couple of insignificant sympathizers of the PSOE (The Spanish Socialist Party) and didn't have much to offer him. Our relationship cooled and the business romance ended a few months later. It was useful in that it enabled me to buy "Cristo se paró en Éboli" (Christ Stopped at Eboli), directed by Francesco Rosi, and a couple of other films of little relevance. I was also able to pay outstanding debts for "Corridas de alegría" (Joyful Orgasms), "Silvia ama a Raquel" (Silvia Loves Raquel) and "Cocaína" (Cocaine), my latest productions. But I had to get back to reality and so, from my comfortable office at La Castellana (then called Avda Generalísimo), I moved to the tiny office I had on Trujillo 7 Street, near Sol district. As to Mendoza, he eventually became a superb president of Real Madrid, and he invited me to his box at the stadium when in 1994 we were awarded the Oscar for the film "Belle époque".

CORRIDAS DE ALEGRIA

"Corridas de alegría" -inspired by the Japanese film directed by Oshima "Ai no corrida" (In the Realm of the Senses) - was an attempt at making a road movie along the lines of the American films from the 1970s that had made the genre fashionable. Gonzalo García Pelayo, director and co-writer, got in touch with me with his film project, "Frente al mar" (Facing the Sea), which I renamed "Intercambio de parejas frente al mar" (Couple Swinging Facing the Sea). It turned out to be moderately successful. Gonzalo is a very peculiar character: a bohemian and extremely realistic individual at the same time, a fundamentalist from Seville, an artist and a dreamer though also practical, as well as the father of dozens of children from many different women. A multifaceted individual and a great producer of Andalusian music, he was responsible for the big hits of singers María Jiménez, Lole and Manuel and others.

"Corridas de alegría" was shot in the South of Spain, following the journey of its protagonists, who travel from Seville to Cadiz, crossing the Ronda mountain range and Grazalema. The film was in praise of the free Andalusian spirit, its amusing nature and poverty, a portrait of pre-democratic Spain where elements of the Franco regime, though in decline, still existed. It was a film that went unnoticed by the public due to inefficient distribution and a poor launch, for which I blame myself entirely - but which people like José Luis Guarner, the best cinema critic of the last 50 years, considered to be a small masterpiece.

VICTORIA DEL PSOE EN 1982

In 1981 and 1982, I was dreaming about a Socialist victory in the general elections. When it happened and the fervor of the celebrations were over, I thought about intensifying my work as a producer and not settle with just making my living as a distributor. I still kept my small office on 7 Trujillo Street and was a neighbor of the notorious distributor José Esteban Alenda. Also, I had a small team of collaborators, with José Luis García and Juan Campos among them. Both José Luis and Juan are still very close to me. Together, we achieved a great deal of success as distributors, the most noteworthy of them being "El último emperador" (The Last Emperor), and we managed to consolidate a distribution network based on our regional agents who, as we were their best suppliers, responded with interest and good will to all of our collaboration proposals. They would make advance payments to me involving large amounts of money through bills of exchange. This made me an expert in the art of discount (on note receivable and promissory notes) and banking finance while at the same time enabling me to keep up a regular production pace, something I had dreamt about for such a long time.

At the age of almost 40 and with 20 years of cinematographic experience, I had the urge to become a great producer. My instinct advised me to make commercial films that might enable me to make good profits without having to depend on distribution activities to keep going. And making commercial movies in those days meant having to approach one man in particular: Mariano Ozores, the indisputable "king of the box office". I convinced him to make two films with me, "Los caraduros" and "El pan debajo del brazo". The first of these was signed by his brother Antonio, although it was directed by Mariano because the latter had an exclusive contract with Ízaro Films, which guaranteed him four films per year. Mariano wasn't very busy at the time and because of that he entered into an alliance with me. But soon enough, my ideas about production clashed with his. I repeatedly told him some basic things, such as filming with direct sound, to ensure that the actors had learned their lines. In addition, I suggested that he stop constantly repeating their part in the cast and a few other little things that I deemed essential. My relationship with Mariano was excellent but unfortunately my "creative" contribution was detrimental for the marketing of the type of films Mariano made and the two films were only moderately successful. Perhaps I was too late when I resorted to Ozores because it is true that, since then, he hasn't made any big box office hits.

At the same time as the Ozores situation went on, my relationship with Harry Alan Towers resulted in the co-production of a series of films for the US-based Playboy Channel. At the time, it was inexpensive to film in Spain. We had $400,000 dollars at our disposal, per film, supplied to us by the American company. With a French director, Claude Mulot, and a Spanish director, Paco Lara Polop, we shot "La venus negra" (Black Venus) and "Christina" respectively. We subsequently changed the latter's name to "Christina y la reconversión sexual" (Christina and the sexual restructuring), inspired by the industrial restructuring which the Minister of Economy, Carlos Solchaga, launched that year.