Pedro Alonso Pablos finishes his eleventh animated feature film, Daga bailaora
May, 07; 2026. By Arscodex
Daga bailaora still
And let's delve into this whole matter. The first thing we need to do is clarify two important points: The first is that it's possible that somewhere in the north, south, east, or west of our little world, someone might be thinking: Who is this guy who makes movies all by himself and is "appropriating" certain cultural elements, keeping the rights to everything he touches as a general rule? Well, these people, if there are any, should know that what we have here, that is, flamenco, is intangible cultural heritage of humanity, so I'm entitled to a small piece, a piece that I've taken, magnified, and transformed, and there you have it! And so I return to humanity this small piece that is Daga bailaora.
On another note, I should also mention in passing that Spanish cinema might be "out of touch," distracted, or not doing its job properly, because how can something as enticing as what I'm presenting right now not have been done until now? But anyway, I'm going to stop bringing up this thought every time I release a film because the point has been made, and I don't want to be too harsh on the majority of Spanish cinema.
In short, what Pedro is doing overall is perfectly legitimate; that is, he's taking all the good things, but this is simply the fruit of his labor. If anyone has any complaints, I would ask them to suppress them and, failing that, to get to work on improving what's already there.
Regarding flamenco in general, I'll simply say that this art form is strategic not only for me, but also for music as an art form, and for Spain and Andalusia. Therefore, we're going to take special care of it here at this publication.
Having made these clarifications, we can now get to the fun part. Essentially, we've taken the well-known literary archetype of the "benefactor who helps the oppressed and confronts the powerful" (which is in the public domain, as we all know, like Robin Hood or El Zorro), given it a female gender, dressed the character in flamenco attire, and voilà! There you have it, the one and only Daga the dancer to the rescue.
This represents an interesting development, which is that flamenco as an art form has typically progressed in waves, like those of, for example, Paco de Lucía and Camarón de la Isla, who helped this art evolve. But right now, instead of taking a step forward, we're taking a step to the side and then another step forward, as flamenco enters the world of literature and film (let's remember all these precedents mentioned). Therefore, it's a great moment that we must celebrate.
On this level, the literary level, the film is accompanied by a series of novel motifs, such as the "golden viper" or "the spirit of el duende," which we won't discuss further so as not to spoil the film for our readers.
On the musical and production level, in addition to the extremely effective collaboration with actress and singer Laura Caba (thank you, Laura!), who perfectly complements Daga's voice and, ultimately, her personality, with that genuinely flamenco touch; besides Laura, we say, we've added some musical themes worthy of the genre we're discussing. Not only the song sung by Laura, but also the main track and another that blends house music with flamenco, relying on rumba as a simple and festive style of this art form.
In short, this film, which was originally conceived as a series but later became a feature film (to round things out), is going to be a milestone in my filmography and, after the upcoming Andalusian elections, will be released with the usual fanfare of the digital age. A press version is already available (for anyone who can get hold of it), but it will be released to the general public after the elections, as we said. This way, the film won't influence the elections (in principle, it shouldn't influence them at all), but above all, the elections won't influence the film's release.
That's all for now. Stay tuned.
