I want to thank

First of all, I want to thank you for the script. Carme Marfà and Yago Alonso (Ovelles, Instruccions per a enterrar un pare). It is very difficult to create a text that maintains a high frequency of humorous vibration for an hour and a half. Normally, I consider that every good play or good film owes everything to a good script, and to a large extent I maintain that, but in this case I must admit that the thanks and recognitions are much more distributed.

The script, first. Because I believe that screenwriters are the composers, and that everything else are interpreters. However, there are interpreters who can destroy the most excellent of compositions, and in this case Biel Duran, Ángela Cervantes, Francesc Ferrer and Laura Pau seem to have all been born for the role. I want to thank the four of them, too. The play slips with total naturalness into their skins, perhaps because they have found themselves in the same situations as the play (like everyone else), perhaps because the casting is well chosen (I would say that Francesc Ferrer, physically and gesturally, is the most perfectly matched to his character and I would say that he is largely the hidden protagonist), but undoubtedly because they are very good actors. Biel has an inner comedic quality that I didn't fully know, sincere, naked, raw, perhaps innate. And they adapt well to a script that revolves, I think it's fair to admit, much more around male clumsiness than around female contradictions. But, regarding masculinities and femininities, there are already farces full of stereotypes and very predictable in our current billboard and I think it will be better not to comment on them.

I don't want to forget to thank the factory. The Flyhard theater, an immense generator of a good part of our latest scenic greatest hits: Smiley (exported to Netflix), Litus, Tortuguess, Un home amb ulleres de pasta… Casanovas, Clua, Cedó, Pompermayer. Forgive me if I highlight those who write, at the beginning of this speech I have already mentioned the reason. In any case, la small theater in Sants has been giving us resounding pearls of contemporary theater for more than ten years that, fortunately, despite the difficulties of our scenic sector, find an echo and recognition among the darkness of the audience (and on some home screens).

In this case, the creature is a kind and amusing reflection on truth and friendship, much more about friendship than about truth, and much more about friendship between guys than about friendship between gals. What they do share are problems with truth, with reality, with growing older while the Strokes play in the background and time runs out to attend the Primavera concert. You have a son, an ugly son, by the way, and you have to take care of him. Or you have too many pending issues with your friend, who is another kind of son, someone you never want to see hurt in life. Or like all of them, you have contradictions with romantic love and with family love and with soulmate love. They are hard to manage, so many types of love, after a certain age. Oh, and the son, and the son. The mortal sin of ugliness that is your son, forgive me for saying it and forgive me for letting it slip. Damn it, among friends we should be honest, right?

Something similar to the premise of Le Prénom, by Matthiew Delaporte and Alexandre de la Patellière, because there are many uncomfortable situations, all related to truth, that can unexpectedly arise at a friends' dinner. The difference is that in this case we jump from one topic to another, that is, we don't focus on the anecdote of the child's bulging eyes, but rather all the hidden truths among them emerge from there, including the affected trend of choosing to live outside Barcelona, for the sake of being able to hear the bells and that it's only twenty minutes away. A string of mirrors that shoot like spears into the lives of the audience, and that have the good fortune to unravel with a finale as unexpected as it is beautiful. A thank-you speech is a perfect formula to discover what truly matters to us. Everyone should give a thank-you speech upon returning home, and everyone would be surprised by what ends up appearing on the list. And by what never ends up appearing (we can't bore the respectable audience). It's a very healthy exercise, even if we never actually deliver the speech. That said, I already have part of the work done: thank you, guys.