I write this in a way that should never be written, which is in the heat of the moment. You have to distance yourself and then write. But I don’t feel like it. Itziar Castro died at dawn after a rehearsal. I can say that Itziar and I were friends. I cannot, however, put myself in the role of his family or his closest friends. The only ones I would have to be accountable to (if necessary) would be them.
Itziar was an outstanding actress. Eduardo Casanova made her shine in Eat my Shit (discovered by the director of casting José Cerqueda) and then gave her a role that earned her the nomination for Best New Actress at the Goya (for Skins), where he exuded that fragile humanity that he knew how to represent so well. I think that this award has something of a jinx to it. In any case, Itziar did not win it and did not establish his career one hundred percent. His other best role was in Kill God, by Caye Casas and Albert Pintó. He always said that it was the only time that the word “fat” was not included in the description of the role. He touched the sky of fame with Triumph operation, where he became the scapegoat of an edition that seemed not to take off. Fortunately, it arrived Vis a vis to grant him the fame he longed for. She was a fragile person, suffering from the actor’s malady: the constant need for focus. The excruciating life of the comedian, with its slopes and curves. Always judged, always on the tightrope.
For whatever reason (thyroid, lipedema, anxiety, genetics), Itziar Castro was strikingly overweight, which he always carried with humor. He gives the impression that fat people have to stand out somewhere to be respected. They have to clean themselves more, they have to be nicer, and of course they have the obligation to laugh with those who laugh at them. Because? Because if they didn’t it would be worse. Laughing at fat people is the last bastion of sadists, who can no longer laugh at anyone. Laughing at a fat person is something you do for your own good. And for Itziar’s sake there were thousands of people who made him suffer constant ridicule every day of his life. He died young. It was to be expected. What no one foresaw was that the mockery would continue once she was dead. I didn’t know that when the mob kicks your corpse it’s for your health.
Beneath that humor with her figure that she displayed, there was an insecure, loving woman, eager to work and act. She was capable of exposing herself to the most stressful situations in order to do a good job. The things we project are often not the things that really happen. Itziar would have deserved more roles worthy of her talent, and not just her physical appearance. I was able to work with her on a film that was ultimately never filmed. I gave him the script the same day of the rehearsal. In a couple of phrases, she captured that character who now wanders through the limbo of the lost films. Since then we had countless encounters and disagreements. Life left Itziar to owe many things. I hope that now, in some way, they will be granted.
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