Mr. Iñárritu, your film “Bardo” premiered in Venice in September. Then you cut another 20 minutes. Was that painful, or does it fit into a project in which you look at your own artistic existence?
Every film cut is an endless process. If I had more time to play with and “massage” this film, I might explore even more different alternative possibilities. But you get close to perfection when you reach a point where you can’t take anything away. In Venice, I realized that if I shortened it to two and a half hours, I would not damage the substance of the film and strengthen other aspects. I also saw him there for the first time with an audience, which means a lot.
The journalist Silverio you are talking about seems like your alter ego.
I made this film with my eyes closed. I had already talked about migration three times before that: in “Babel”, in “Biutiful” and in “Carne y Arena”, that was an attempt at virtual reality. This time I closed my eyes and looked within, looking for something to express. It’s not an autobiography, it’s an autofiction. For this I use an alter ego, and so with fiction I strive for a higher truth, for something that reality does not immediately reveal. “Bardo” is a work of fiction based on real emotions.
Silverio returns to Mexico from the United States to collect an award. Where do you currently live?
I was 36 when I left Mexico, which means I’ve been living in the US for 21 years now.
But you can’t get away from Mexico.
A country or an identity or memories come at you with a vengeance as soon as you leave your country. There is no greater difference than between Mexico and the United States. You will probably also become German or European if you go to India. Origin is a condition that you never get rid of. Time gives a little more clarity, the distance makes things more transparent, but there’s also a sense of emptiness that interests me.
What is the Mexican about you?
The way of understanding and dealing with things. Mexico is an ancient country, an empire that was conquered, a multi-ethnic country. The USA is very young, very diverse. We always start from the abstract, from philosophical thoughts we come to the specific. The Anglo-Saxons are pragmatic at first and interested in the details and from there move on to the general. But it’s also fascinating how our interactions as countries are so intertwined.
Silverio is a journalist, so tied to reality. As a narrator, you have much more freedom.
When you’re a filmmaker telling about something real like migration, you have to do it a bit like a journalist. But there are also quite subjective spellings. The truth doesn’t exist. Nobody can say that for themselves. We experience things through our nervous system and ideology or through what we believe. The crisis of the character Silverio lies precisely in this unclear distinction between the real and the imaginary.