Cannes 2026 interview: Dominga Sotomayor (La perra)

Presented in the Quinzaine des Cinéastes, the story of La Perra by Dominga Sotomayor unfolds on a remote island in southern Chile, where a solitary woman’s encounter with an abandoned puppy becomes the catalyst for confronting long-buried trauma and fractured relationships. In an interview with Natalia Serebriakova at the Cannes Film Festival, the director reflects on casting, working with animals, and the emotional architecture of her film.

NS: Can you please tell us how you came up with this story? Where did it start?

DS: Two years ago I read this Colombian book with the same title as the film, written by Pilar Quintana. I was working with Rodrigo Teixeira, a producer from Brazil who was also a co-producer on Too Late to Die Young, my previous feature film. He told me, “You might like this book, read it.” So it was his suggestion. He approached me and recommended it.

NS: And what was your first reaction when you read the book; what attracted you to it, emotionally or creatively?

DS: I had a very intuitive connection with the story, without knowing where it would lead me. I was very drawn to the relationship between the woman and the dog, especially because it was not romanticized. It felt layered and strong. In all my films, I try to explore the connection between characters and landscape. In this book, the jungle was dramatically very important, so I felt that I could see myself doing something with it. I just did not know what yet. I told Rodrigo that I loved it, but I did not imagine myself making a film in Colombia. It felt very specific — this woman in the jungle, on a beach I had never seen. The idea stayed up in the air for a while while I worked on other things. Then Rodrigo told me that I could adapt it in any way I wanted, even move it to another country.

NS: And how did that decision lead you to Chile as a location for the adaptation?

DS: I became enthusiastic about that idea and decided to do a research trip. I traveled to the south of Chile by car, because usually people go to the northern beaches, which are more paradisiacal. I did not want that. I wanted a beach that is windy, dark, intense, with a sense of risk. On this first trip I was with Inés Bortagaray, the writer who worked with me on the adaptation, and with a producer, Nicolás. We stopped at different beaches and met several people along the way. So I began collecting elements. For instance, I met a woman named Sylvia, and I thought immediately that Sylvia should be the character’s name.

NS: How did you eventually discover the island on which the film is set?

DS: One night I was searching on my phone for places nearby, and then I found this island, about two hours south. We decided to go there. There were almost no images online, it was very unknown. We took a ferry that was mostly used by locals, and when I arrived on the island I immediately knew: this is the place.

NS: What made this island so special for you?

DS: I am fascinated by remote islands. I could not believe I had never heard of it before. It was beautiful, but also tense. There was a very strange, small community there. It did not feel like Chile. It felt like something in between — maybe like Ireland, but poorer, with more disorder, even trash. But I liked that contradiction. It felt very special.

NS: What were the main challenges with shooting on such a remote location?

DS: From the beginning it was difficult, because there were not even proper places to stay. We were staying in small houses across the island, in very precarious conditions. Sometimes there was no hot water. We also split the crew across different homes, and people from the island became part of the process. They cooked for us, rented us objects, even participated as extras or contributed to production design. But it was still very challenging. The wind was so strong that sometimes we could not hear each other. We had to walk long distances with heavy equipment. It was a very small crew, so everything felt handmade.

NS: What do you think about landscapes in your films in general?

DS: For me, the landscape is always the main character. It is not just a background, it is a system that welcomes the characters. I am interested in repetition — returning to the same places at different moments, especially when time and memory are involved.

NS: How did working with an untrained dog influence the production?

DS: I have worked with children and animals before, but here the dog was essentially a main character. And it was not a trained dog – it was a shelter dog that we adopted. Her name is Judy. We visited several shelters and adopted her with two animal trainers who worked with me on set. She was very young and very energetic, so she was not easy to control. Even getting a single close-up was difficult because she kept moving. But I think the actors had to adapt to her rhythm, and that created something very authentic. Every day there were unexpected situations — wind, water, animals, children — so the film became very reactive. That unpredictability became part of its language.

NS: How did you develop your relationship with animals in cinema, especially dogs? Are you a cat person or a dog person?

DS: I am a dog person; my own dog is like a child to me. I am very interested in the idea of domestication and the illusion of ownership. How something familiar, like a dog, can also feel completely alien fascinates me. I did not want the dog to be a metaphor, I wanted it to be a character. The film is about a woman and a dog navigating an island, both searching for identity and freedom.

NS: How did you develop the visual language of the film with your cinematographer?

DS: I was very lucky to work with Simone D’Arcangelo. We became very close and shared a passion for painting. We looked at landscape painting from the nineteenth century, romantic traditions, and also modern references. But it was not about strict planning, it was very reactive. So some sequences are full of shots, others are much more minimal. Each chapter has its own visual nature. We mainly worked with natural light, and we constantly in discussion, but in the moment we often simply reacted to what was there.

NS: Why did you decide to include Selton Mello in the cast?

DS: I wanted to create the illusion of a remote island, but in reality it is a constructed space, filmed in two different locations. I also wanted to mix locals with someone from outside, to break the naturalistic flow. Selton was a very natural choice. He is very well known in Brazil, but on this island nobody knew him, which created an interesting dynamic. It also played into the story, because the main character is fascinated by someone foreign, someone who arrives from outside her world.

NS: How did you approach casting, especially given your interest in working outside traditional industry methods?

DS: When I work on casting, I try to stay as far away as possible from the traditional industry approach. My mother is an actress and has always helped me with casting; in this film, she was officially the casting director. We did not hold large open calls, because I prefer a more personal approach. We contacted a very small number of actresses — around five in total. Manuela was one of them, because I already knew I liked her work, and she eventually became the lead.

For the children, I also avoided open casting calls. I prefer to think very specifically about what I need. We looked for a girl who lived by the beach in Chile, someone who was comfortable in the water. My mother did research in surf communities and found a girl through a surf club. I watched a video of her and immediately liked her. Then we met her in person and worked with her through small exercises and recordings. The boy is the son of a friend from my childhood. So I simply asked people I knew. I do not like casting children through open calls, I prefer to meet them directly and see if there is a natural connection. In fact, I only met those two children. I do not like to reject children in casting processes.

Working with this small, carefully chosen cast was very intimate and very focused. I think that was important for the film, because it allowed us to build real relationships rather than industry-based performances.

NS: How would you describe the main character of the film, and what was important for you in shaping her emotional complexity? She is a very strong woman.

DS: Yes, absolutely. That is her. She is a little different. I think she is complex in a very specific way — simple, but not in an obvious sense. I do not want to say masculine, but she is not focused on herself in an emotional or expressive way. Maybe that is because she cannot be. I think she is afraid of her own feelings. She is kind of blocked emotionally.

NS: And how does the dog change or influence her emotional state throughout the film?

DS: The dog opens up another emotional layer. It creates a space where she can access something she normally keeps closed. Manuela Yáñez is amazing. I always had her in mind. She is a theater actress and has had smaller roles in films, and she is very well known in Chile for her theater work. But this is her first main role in a film, and she is fantastic.

She was also very open and flexible when working with the dog. That is not easy, because you have to be extremely available as an actor. We built a connection between her and the dog about a month before shooting — they spent time together, getting used to each other. The dog really loved her. I think it was challenging for her, but she handled it incredibly well. She is very good and very present, and I felt very lucky to work with her.

NS: Was the film fully scripted, or did you allow improvisation on set?

DS: I would not say it was fully scripted in a rigid way. There was a script, but when we arrived on set, many things changed depending on what was happening in the moment. I would adjust lines, or sometimes remove them. There were not that many lines to begin with. And even in the editing process, we changed certain things.