Maricel Álvarez: “I understand the body as an expressive tool.”

Maricel Álvarez's name is a familiar one for those familiar with theater performers, but for a few years now she's also been appearing in theaters. Some discovered her in Biutiful and can now rediscover her talent in The Arrival of the Son. This is the second film by the screenwriting and directing duo Cecilia Atán and Valeria Pivato, the same directors behind The Bride of the Desert. It's a co-production with Spain, hence the participation of actress Greta Fernández alongside a Spanish cast including Ángelo Mutti Spinetta, Cristina Banegas, Diego Faturos, and Esteban Meloni. The film arrives after its world premiere at the San Sebastián Film Festival (2024) and after winning Best Film at the Mar del Plata Film Festival (2024). It can be seen in theaters starting Thursday the 11th.

—How did you become Sofía, the protagonist of “The Arrival of the Son”?

—I had seen their debut feature film, The Desert Bride, quite some time before being called to audition. They invited me to audition, and of course I accepted. There were two or three interesting work meetings, where you begin to see how that bond with the directors can develop in the hypothetical case of being cast in the lead role of Sofía. You feel like you're being tested, but there's sensitivity, care, and above all, a focus on the work. That way, you get rid of certain ghosts and fears. I'm not a big fan of auditions, and I go to very few; I choose them very carefully.

—Was it difficult to film with two directors at the same time?

—They aren't contradictory; quite the opposite; they complement each other very well. Furthermore, before filming began, they gave me a month's notice of the start of the shoot, providing me with a comprehensive, in-depth, and sensitive tabletop work that illuminated areas that might have been more complex to address. They were always attentive and willing to make any necessary adjustments.

—The film has many silences: how do you interpret them?

—I appreciated the economy of text and dialogue in this film. There's something incredibly interesting about working with silences. Understanding how to convey, through gestures and expression, an emotional process that is a whirlwind, yet very intimate and unable to be expressed. There's so much that's kept silent, so much that's kept quiet and secret. Sofía is a character who is deeply torn internally by a multitude of emotions, but at the same time, by social mandate. There's a super interesting contradiction. Besides, you're making a film, and in some ways it demands a certain economy of expressive resources; the screen can't withstand overflows. Sometimes, when they're too explicit, pedagogical, or wordy, they seem to have a purpose, which is to direct and shape the viewer's thoughts. I prefer silences, mystery, enigma, to create the spaces that the audience has to fill.

—There are some nudes: was it difficult?

—I'm a very risky actress. I do theater and performance, and I've been exposed a lot on stage. I understand the body as an expressive tool, of enormous power. I've never held back when it comes to working with it; quite the opposite, I conceive of it as another expressive possibility. I have absolutely no shame or prejudice when it comes to showing it, when I understand it to be a powerful expressive and narrative tool. This happens to me both in film and theater, which is why I have been completely free to portray nudity. Of course, I've always been consulted and carefully considered. We were also able to discuss and reach a consensus about the scenes with my partner, Greta Fernández. Furthermore, our director of photography, Sergio Armstrong, is a master, so all the conditions were in place.

—For some, there was a turning point with the film “Biutiful,” by Mexican director Alejandro González Iñárritu, which you shot with Javier Barden in 2010. Do you believe that?

—I think one is the creator of one's own path, since destiny is controlled by the forces or wills of others. I don't think I'm a successful actress, but I am an effective one, deeply hardworking and committed to my language, constantly thinking about it critically, no matter what field I work in. I work in the performing arts, visual arts, performance, dance, and film, and I'm a curator. Biutiful is a great project in my journey, in my career, but I don't consider it a pivotal performance, a milestone, or anything. I walked the red carpet of the most famous festival in the world, alongside the actor of the moment. But I don't want to undervalue what that experience meant in my life, because it was spectacular and I enjoyed it immensely. It's true that since that film, I've been working in film much more frequently than before.

—Your background includes that you are an art curator: how would you define that?

—Strictly speaking, I'm more of an artist-curator than a curator because I'm not trained. I have practice, which is a trade, a profession. I studied literature at the University of Buenos Aires and trained as an actress, but not as a curator. I began my work in the field of curatorship from an artistic perspective. I was invited by the director of the Performance Biennial to do the international program. A curator is someone who chooses a selection of artists and works to form a program, understanding that there is a certain constellation between them. I can also accompany the artists' processes. I'm also an intermediary between the dialogue between the artist, their work, and the space where it will be exhibited. I am the creator and curator of the Filoctetes archive, which is exploring how to document living art and preserve the memory of those ephemeral works of art.

—Will you return to the stage?

—I started performing in Madrid in 2025. I did Aliens Will Come and They Will Have Your Eyes by Spanish playwright María Velasco. I think we'll resume it next year to tour there. The Museum of Modern Art invited me to participate in the series called Exhibitions on Poster, and I'll be performing with Mariana Obersztern, the group Piel de Lava, Lolit Lauti, and Rafael Spregelburd. They called us to produce a new creation. In December, I'll present Me and This Mystery: Here We Are: A Little Suite of Myself. I'll be with four dolls created in my image and likeness, representing some of my performances: Exquisite Pain (2008–2009), Hecuba or the Canine Gynoeceum (2011–2012), Orlando: A Dysphoric Uchronia (2017), and Meditative Medea (2022). I have the artistic collaboration of Emanuel Fernández, the dolls were created by Ayelén Coccoz and the lighting design is by Martín Antuña.

—The film “The Arrival of the Son” proposes almost as a subtitle “the unforgivable”: what would that be in your case?

—I think there are issues that have to do fundamentally with ethics, love, and professionalism. Wars are unforgivable because they annihilate others, destroying the life of others, which is the most precious thing. I am a person who cannot tolerate what is happening in the world right now, like the genocide in Gaza. I have spoken out publicly about the cruelty of this Argentine government, what it is doing to the elderly, the disabled, the sick, and artists. I have taken to the streets and participated. Over more than twenty years of professional experience, all my work has been influenced by a profoundly poetic, but also political, view of the world.