Director Maite Alberdi. Photo by Gari Garaialde
By Samuel Brodsky
Chilean Academy Award-nominated director Maite Alberdi (The Mole Agent) was recently in New York City for the U.S. theatrical release of her fifth feature film The Eternal Memory / La memoria infinita, which had its world premiere last January at the Sundance Film Festival and where it won the World Cinema Grand Jury Prize: Documentary.
The Eternal Memory tells the love story of Paulina and Augusto. She is an actress that had served as Minister of Culture in Chile, and he is a journalist and of the country’s most prominent cultural commentators and television presenters. They’ve been together for 25 years, but eight years ago Augusto was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, and Paulina became her caretaker. TropicalFRONT had the chance to talk with Alberdi about the process of making her newest film and the challenges of making the documentary during the pandemic.
How has the experience of premiering the film in the United States been?
It's been quite incredible… realizing how it's a universal film, one that works everywhere, and for a Latin American filmmaker, of course, it's a big step to be able to showcase it in theaters in the United States. It's not common. In Chile, it's set to premiere in theaters on August 24th. And with numerous theaters across Chile, a wide distribution, so we're eagerly anticipating how it will be received.
Still from The Eternal Memory
How did you meet Paulina and Augusto? And where did the idea of making a film about the two of them come from?
It came about because I saw them in a work context, and I was very surprised by how they interacted with each other. Paulina invited me to give a lecture at the university where she worked, and there was Augusto sitting in the class. And she let him ask questions, and he had just been diagnosed with [Alzheimer's] and I realized that his work environment involved him, and that she was a caregiver taking care of him on her own, and that they had decided to embrace Augusto's life, and I was very struck by how they appeared as a couple, and how they had fallen in love, and that she hadn't isolated herself to take care of him. And I started from there, I tried to convince them to create a love story, and Paulina always told me, I don't think it's a love story. And she convinced Augusto; Augusto from the first day was very determined to do it.
I'm interested that both Paulina and Augusto have a background in theater and television. I mean, in acting. And Augusto acted in films by Raúl Ruiz. How was the experience of portraying them so honestly?
Certainly, both have been in front of cameras their entire lives. They have different relationships with them, but making a documentary was also not the same for Paulina, because it's a camera of intimacy, but... they're used to it, and you can also feel in the film how she quickly forgets about the camera, I think it's evident in the recordings she makes, and he, on the other hand, moved like a television host while we were filming, it's like a physical awareness of the camera, that's noticeable, so it's interesting, how the normalcy of that presence didn't require us to constantly explain what we were doing, I mean, when we agreed, in broad strokes, on what we wanted, it was about flowing with that presence.
About those more intimate moments: I like that the camera is slightly out of focus, and as if it were a little hidden. Was it an accident or an artistic decision?
It wasn't a decision, no! It was Paulina who was handling the camera, haha, but in a way, it was that lack of experience with the camera that helped us, because there's something in that blur that has to do with the absence of memory, and has to do with something that's happening that one doesn't quite understand, and also in a situation that one doesn't want to see completely, or that is literally difficult to see... it's interesting what happens by chance, it wasn't an intentional search, we tried to have Paulina do her best but it didn't work haha... but it's important for me as a filmmaker, one would think that material of that quality is disposable, but in the end, life, truth, and the sentiment that the images convey take precedence… it was also a lesson for me, as a filmmaker, about what's more important in front of the camera.
Still from The Eternal Memory
Of course. And I imagine you had to relinquish some control, given a subject like this.
One hundred percent. Letting go of control, with the implications, the visual control, and the content control. I also had high expectations, both of us were watching what was happening, recording, what was good for the film. Since the film is independent, we had no backing, we had the freedom to get lost, to play... so I think that freedom is evident, because I also believe that if we had handed this material over to a production company that allowed us less freedom, or to a fund… they would have said that this material wouldn't be suitable! So it allowed us to generate this content, without knowing whether we would use it or not, or if it would work for the film. And eventually, the pandemic in Chile dragged on so long, and the lockdown was so prolonged in Chile, that it became our sole means of recording for a long time, just the two of them. But I think it benefits the film in the end.
Yes, absolutely. I wanted to ask you about the little birds. I love them!
Yes, me too. I came across them, and I think what happened to me was that I approached them because there was a constant melody in that place. Like it was a home where there was companionship, and a sonic companionship that was these canaries, in complete silence. And they were always singing, always present, always keeping each other company... just like the two of them! Who always, too, were singing to each other, commenting, and keeping each other company, so I think there's a parallel between them and the canaries, but above all, it has to do with companionship, I mean, all the animals are keeping each other company. There's Julieta, the cat, too, who's always present. And it's really amazing: Julieta, the cat, died two hours after Augusto passed away.
Wow. Do you have any advice for documentary filmmakers today?
The main advice is to have patience. Don't rush. I think it's the rushing and the lack of patience that hinder the documentary. The processes, the closeness to the characters. It takes time to understand the film you're making, and in visually constructing it, you have to subordinate yourself to the characters. And that requires time.
