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How ‘The Secret Agent’ found Tânia Maria, other cast members

For casting director Gabriel Domingues, putting together the ensemble of “The Secret Agent” meant materializing characters inspired by director Kleber Mendonça Filho’s recollections.

“It’s not that he was showing us a picture and saying, ‘They must look like this.’ They were ideas of memories that could change,” Domingues says of the Brazilian period thriller about a father on the run during an interview at The Times newsroom. One of the nominees for this year’s inaugural Academy Award for casting, Domingues appreciates how politically charged Mendonça Filho’s films are. His narratives are often fertile ground for an eclectic mix of performers.

And there are no throwaway roles in “The Secret Agent”: “Even the small characters represent ideas about Brazilian life and its contradictions,” Domingues adds.

To honor his large cast, a “panorama” of his country’s people, Mendonça Filho includes a montage at the end of the film in which each actor is acknowledged individually. The director thinks of this as the cinematic equivalent of a curtain call or final bow at the end of a stage production.

“Gabriel tries to find an interesting mix of experienced actors and people that we can discover,” says producer Emilie Lesclaux about Domingues, with whom she’s worked on multiple projects. He first collaborated with Mendonça Filho and Lesclaux on “Aquarius” as a casting assistant.

Domingues believes working on “Aquarius” was instrumental in developing his casting method, which involves searching for the least obvious option to cast the character. He prides himself on doing the shoe-leather work of looking for fresh, compelling faces in cities where others might not think to look — those without a prominent arts scene, for instance.

That’s not to say the entire cast was discovered. Mendonça Filho had lead Wagner Moura in mind from the outset, while others sprung to mind as he wrote the screenplay: Maria Fernanda Cândido, a famous soap opera actor, as a crucial ally to Moura’s character; and the late Udo Kier, who had previously appeared in the director’s blood-soaked film “Bacurau,” as a German Jewish immigrant who lived through World War II.

The filmmaker admits that envisioning parts with a specific person in mind is “dangerous.” “I can write a character thinking of you, but I never know if you will want to make the film,” says Mendonça Filho. “And I grow attached to the image.”

Among the other supporting roles, the most challenging to cast, the team agrees, was that of Euclides, the sleazy police chief. Though the character is “repulsive,” it also required an edge of charisma to make him more emotionally layered. Eventually, they came across actor Robério Diógenes. “Robério has studied the clown art in the theater, and he’s a very funny guy, so he adds a component of ridiculousness to this character,” Domingues says.

For Vilmar, an impoverished man hired as a subcontractor for a murder, Mendonça Filho had in mind a real-life contract killer he’d seen in a 1970s TV program. The actor had to convey a certain ambiguity not often afforded to people of a lower social class. There’s no doubt Vilmar is acting out of necessity, but he is not entirely without agency since he negotiates his payment. Domingues found the ideal embodiment of this complex character in Kaiony Venâncio, an actor from the city of Natal who had mostly worked in short films.

Then there’s the scene-stealing Tânia Maria, who plays the endearing, chain-smoking Dona Sebastiana. The 79-year-old talent first appeared in “Bacurau” as an extra. “I just could not help thinking of her,” says Mendonça Filho about casting her in his latest film. “I even pre-ad-libbed many of her lines knowing what she might say.”

Before finding her way onto the screen, Tânia Maria has long made a living as an artisan handcrafting rugs. “I never thought about being an actress. I only thought about sewing,” she says with an endearing smile. “All of this came as a surprise.”

And though she’s still sewing, her acting prospects look bright. She’s already appeared in another film, “Yellow Cake,” premiering at the Berlin International Film Festival this month. That Tânia Maria also recently starred in humorous local commercials for Burger King and Heineken is proof of her current status in Brazilian pop culture — as are the Dona Sebastiana costumes that have become popular during this year’s Carnival.

“I can’t go out on the street without people stopping me. They ask me for autographs, for photos, they want to talk to me, they ask me questions,” she says in Portuguese via an interpreter while on a video call from her home. “I make time for everyone, and I’m enjoying all of it.”

Undaunted by what she calls the most challenging aspect of acting — memorizing the lines — Tânia Maria is eager to continue exploring this unexpected new facet. “I don’t want to stop because I’m not old! I’m waiting for more invitations to move forward in acting,” she says.

The success many of the actors have found thanks to “The Secret Agent” very much pleases the filmmakers, but it also has a major downside.

“That’s all that we want for the people that we work with, that the film is good for them and their career,” says Lesclaux. “But for us, it also makes things more complicated for the next film because we will want to work with them, and they might not be available.”



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‘Calle Málaga’ review: Carmen Maura shines in defiant, complex portrayal

To age is to find one’s appreciation for life’s daily joys sharpen, especially as more inconvenient realities assert themselves. Lifelong Tangier resident Maria Angeles (Carmen Maura), part of the bustling Moroccan city’s entrenched Spanish community, is one such grateful senior. We see her at the beginning of “Calle Málaga” in a state of smiling contentment, walking her neighborhood streets and being greeted by vendors.

What she surely isn’t expecting, however, as she buys food and makes croquetas in preparation for an eagerly awaited visit from her daughter from Madrid, is that this trip will threaten all she holds dear. That’s because Clara (Marta Etura), a divorced mom struggling to pay the bills, arrives with the news that she’s selling the grand old apartment her widowed mother has lived in for 40 years. Won’t it be nicer for Maria to live with her in Spain and be closer to her grandchildren? Or at the very least be taken care of locally in Spanish-specialized assisted living?

The look on Maura’s face — this celebrated actor’s most well-honed tool — suggests a range of emotions regarding forced elderhood or grannydom that are far less accommodating.

How Maria handles her imminent uprooting is at the core of Moroccan filmmaker Maryam Touzani’s third feature, her follow-up to the similarly sensitive family drama “The Blue Caftan.” “Calle Málaga,” written with Touzani’s husband Nabil Ayouch, is not a passive narrative, though, merely content with the internalized ache of acceptance. It is to some extent an emotional heist film and protest tale in delicate harmony, in that after initially agreeing to be placed in that Tangier senior center while her possessions are boxed up or sold, Maria schemes to steal her life back from under her absent daughter’s nose.

If you don’t look too closely at the details of Touzani’s charming scenario — which requires that a lot of things to fall into place, if enjoyably so — the movie becomes a sweet and spicy counternarrative to stories about aging that patronize their protagonists. (Another noteworthy example was last year’s rapturous American indie “Familiar Touch.”) Maria essentially becomes a crafty squatter in her own up-for-sale apartment, reclaiming some items from a hard-nosed but increasingly understanding antiques dealer (a well-cast Ahmed Boulane) and engineering a clever way to earn money with the help of friendly neighborhood kids who adore her. Her gambit even opens the door for unexpected romance, giving her frequent chats with Josefa (María Alfonsa Rosso), a childhood friend, an increasingly eye-opening frankness.

It’s hard to imagine anyone other than Maura, her almond-shaped eyes as powerfully suggestive as ever, conveying Maria’s rejuvenated spirit and sensuality with as much magnetism. Touzani, an unfussy, patient director with a fondness for the simplicity of human interaction, implicitly trusts her star to carry the film’s effervescence and complexity, although you may wish the filmmaking was a little less straightforward.

There is, after all, a reckoning for Maria’s situation we can’t help but keep in the back of our mind. Because our first brief glimpse of Clara is a sympathetic one — as opposed to conveniently antagonistic — we know “Calle Málaga” won’t settle for a tidy resolution. And it doesn’t, save leaving us with a view of Maria’s bid for freedom that, like the rose petal that is one of Touzani’s go-to visuals, beautifies the air whether still connected to the roots or separated and strewn like so much that’s fragile in life.

‘Calle Málaga’

In Spanish and Arabic, with subtitles

Not rated

Running time: 1 hour, 56 minutes

Playing: Opens Friday, Feb. 13 at Laemmle Monica Film Center and Laemmle Town Center, Encino

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