The story goes…

It all started when I was around six, with a borrowed VHS of Alfred Hitchcock's 1940s film Rebecca. It probably drew my attention in the first place because my Mum had told me I was supposed to be named Rebeca myself. Until the day I was born, that is, when my Dad decided to name me after my Italian grandmother, Irene (pronounced ee - reh - neh) instead. For a long time, I was convinced I definitely looked like more of a Becky and that the forces of destiny had betrayed my preordination, providing my father with an inspirational spark of ancestry honour. But the name itself is anecdotal; I became fascinated by the film, watching it obsessively. It was to be the first of many. Luckily, back then, I was too young to have friends I could subject to watching it repeatedly, as was infamously the case later on with other films (namely Who Framed Roger Rabbit, The Shining and Dancer In The Dark. Sorry, chicas).

Fast forward a few years, and I am graduating with a B.A. in Film Studies at Università di Bologna (Italy). I had become bewitched by the fragility of a medium fast becoming extinct, so I undertook a working placement at the Cineteca di Bologna, where I learned about archiving, restoring and conserving celluloid within L'Immagine Ritrovata labs.

The consequences of playing “Steven Spielberg’s Director’s Chair”

I returned to Spain to earn an M.A. in Film Directing. I directed several shorts we don’t speak about and started working in film productions, mainly as an assistant director. Whilst I was enraptured by the painstakingly slow and cumbersome magic of making dreams come to life on screen and the unbreakable familial bond that emerges from the madness that is working with dozens of strangers for fourteen hours a day, six days a week, a few months at a time in some unfamiliar place - which despite spending months at, you wouldn’t recognise if you were to be dropped off by a UFO at any subsequent point in your life.

The stress and physicality of the role began taking its toll on my health from my first professional shoot. I was a production assistant blocking off roads at night with my imposing 153 cm height for the second film unit of a Hollywood action movie involving car stunts and whatnot. Apart from being attacked by an angry neighbour who was so unhappy with the fact that I was preventing him from spontaneously leaving his home at 3 am, should he actually have any inclination to do so, and getting run over by a production car, that he proceeded to throw bare CDs at me from his window while shouting all manner of things I wish I could remember. He didn’t even have the dignity of throwing anything tasteful at me, but those demo CD-roms one got back in the day with magazines. I was so disappointed that I wouldn’t even be able to make a good anecdote out of it in my memoir.

If this is my dream come true, why is it making me unwell?

I had to find a position that allowed me to take short breaks from the incessant screeching of the walkie-talkie straight into my ear canal; to go to the makeshift WC when my body thought it suitable rather than when everyone else was having a break, but I was chasing some actor who’d gotten a little too entranced in the method and had gone off into the woods when I dared to blink; and in which didn’t burn out all my energy by being my most socially adept self. The answer came as the revelation to train as a continuity supervisor at the London Film School, despite knowing very well that:

1. I am very organised and have scrupulous attention to detail when something interests me, but

2. I have an appalling attention span. I tend to invariably fall prey to daydreaming whenever there is a bit of silence in the room, aka “rolling!” and

3. Number 1 is a self-delusion. An excruciating coping mechanism developed in early childhood to fly undetected under the neurotypical radar.

Unsurprisingly, I was indeed much more comfortable with the independence and an excuse for being an introverted fly on the wall that being a "script" brought me.

Roberto

Ever my champion, it was my dear friend and mentor, the late filmmaker Roberto Pérez Toledo, who trusted me in my first role as a script supervisor for his debut feature film “Seis Puntos Sobre Emma”. He was and still is my inspirational figure and the person I would choose to have dinner (again) with if granted that wish.

He doesn’t get enough credit for the tyre tracks he left behind: he pioneered LGBTQI+ and disability representation in Spanish cinema. If you are reading this, I’m either not as terrible a storyteller as I have convinced myself following that incident with the scriptwriting tutor, or you have some time to spare. If the latter is the case, I invite you to watch Rober’s final short film, “Antes de la Erupción” here - is there a legacy more potent than a metaphor between the peaceful volcanic landscape of our native island of Lanzarote and the beauty in the brute force that is the eruption of self-acceptance?

I didn't realise just how much working with Roberto had shaped my awareness of the importance of accessibility in film production until I found out about my neurodivergence a decade later. After putting together the puzzle pieces, I realised my struggles with the film production environment, which I had already moved away from by then, could have been mitigated if deep-seated assumptions about standard practices and attitudes in the film industry had been questioned.

Plot twist!

In 2010, I landed a job coordinating the Lanzarote International Film Festival, and that's when I fell in love with connecting with audiences.

This led me to select shorts for several film festivals and obtain an M.A. in the first Film Studies Programming and Curation cohort at the National Film and Television School. I had the privilege of undertaking a working placement with the British Film Institute Southbank programming team and curating several film seasons, partnering with institutions such as the Japan Foundation and the Korean Cultural Centre. Did I forget to mention my love for Japanese cinema led me to make East and Southeast Asian Cinema my area of curatorial expertise?

Currently, I am a feature film programmer for Raindance London, an honoured CICAE member, and probably the proudest BIFA voter ever to exist.

Based on real-life events

My recent adult diagnosis allowed me to recognise the impact being disabled had on the difficulties I faced during my film career. Since then, my aim has become to educate, raise awareness, and advocate for accessibility and inclusion in all areas of the screen industry.

To make this possible, I started by qualifying as an Equality, Diversity and Inclusion trainer with Creative Diversity Network in 2022, for whom I deliver online training focused on reasonable adjustments, accessible productions and understanding disability inclusion.

To Be Continued

PS: If you find the one big continuity mistake in “Seis Puntos Sobre Emma”, I will send you a personalised postcard from Lanzarote. It took Roberto ten years to find it, even though he edited the movie himself!

I'm the fashionable person in pigtails hiding under an inconspicuous cap while Roberto (front left) directs his debut feature