Álvaro Cervantes: "Heartbreak is painful, but it helps you learn to love better."

Heartbreak "hurts, but it heals if it teaches us to understand ourselves and love better." This is what Álvaro Cervantes (Barcelona, 1989) tells us. He has just immersed himself in its depths as one of the protagonists of Esmorza amb mi ( Have Breakfast with Me ), a film that crosses four lives suspended in limbo between the love that is dying and the one that—perhaps—will be born. The key is to make room for it.

Can you break up without hating?

You can dissect the wound to understand where it comes from and try to make the next relationship healthier. Heartbreak is part of that learning process.

What's the secret to being less toxic in a relationship?

The first thing is to look at yourself and stop thinking that everyone else is responsible for everything. Take stock, reflect on how you react to other people's behavior, on your automatic behaviors... so you can change them.

Stop defending yourself, then.

Ask yourself how you do things, why, and for what purpose... Try to avoid reactive behaviors that ultimately only end up harming yourself.

Do you think the new generations want better?

Perhaps they're closer to the self-work that's needed—therapeutic work, if you will. The topics of mental health and therapy are no longer taboo for these new generations and have become a very natural part of their lives as a way of gaining tools for a world that is very turbulent, very hectic today. And also, at times, too individualistic.

The film presents breakfast as the greatest challenge to intimacy in a couple.

Breakfast is the beginning of the day, a time when you see others more clearly.

In daylight we are all more real, of course.

That moment may not anticipate anything, but having breakfast together implies a desire to share a little more, at least the first plan of the day.

Your character, Iván, is in a relationship with a person who uses a wheelchair. In the previous film, your partner was deaf. Is there little talk about disability in films?

I think there's still a lack of space for voices that understand these situations intimately because they've experienced them and know how to describe them. We live in an ableist society, and so is our industry. There's still a lot of work to be done in this regard, and opening our eyes to other stories is a treasure that can't be wasted.

Has cinema gained in diversity?

Of course. In recent years, for example, we've seen the rise of many female directors, which has been a triumph for Spanish cinema. It's good that the industry is opening up and integrating the whole of society.

You say we live in an ableist society. How have you personally realized this?

Well, to begin with, before making the film "Deaf," I didn't know that word. That's already a sign: being able to afford not to know a word that accurately describes the situation of absolute privilege in which I live, the fact that I don't notice what other realities mean.

Are we a society with little empathy?

Empathy is part of being human, but to put it into practice, the first thing you need is information. Information can help you build awareness. In addition to visibility policies, curiosity is needed, and that curiosity exists. I saw it reflected in the film's audience. Although often in everyday life, you don't consider the experiences of others.

Sorda speaks of a motherhood that is much more complex than it already is.

The fears of a mother or father with a disability are even greater. In fact, the film is based on a previous short film for which director Eva Libertad asked her sister, Miriam Garlo, for a list of the fears she had when considering being a deaf mother in a hearing world.

Was it difficult to interpret with sign language?

What I didn't want to do was learn it just to recite a few lines from a script; I wanted to be able to improvise, to communicate with the deaf people I met. I was very lucky with the teachers, and I reached a level where I could feel comfortable in the skin of this character, who has created a universe of his own with his partner where they understand each other very well despite the difficulties... until the arrival of the baby bursts that bubble. The story highlights many things that happen in couples, even those without children. No matter how much connection two people feel, there's always a corner of each other that you'll never access. And it has to be that way. It's right that it is that way.

The bad thing is that this creates frustration.

And not just in the realm of love, but also in relationships with parents and friends...

Speaking of friendship, your latest film is about male friendship. How does it differ from friendship between women?

It's always said, and it's true, that men tend to repress their feelings and displays of affection more, to make them less explicit. I like being part of a story like this because of the opportunity to create new role models, to embody someone who isn't afraid to show themselves as they are and not with the face they show the world: that's where the bonds of friendship are truly established. The other thing is pretending.