“Calle Málaga”, An Interview With Maryam Touzani

Moroccan filmmaker and actress Maryam Touzani’s enchanting third feature, Calle Málaga, has just premiered in the Arab region as part of the International Competition at the 46th Cairo International Film Festival, where it was celebrated with a gala screening at the elegant Opera House. Set in the heart of Tangier’s old Medina, the film follows the high-spirited Spaniard María Ángeles —a remnant of the Spanish protectorate in Morocco from the early 20th century— played by the legendary Carmen Maura, as she navigates her later years with vitality, sensuality, and a profound attachment to the city of her birth.

María Ángeles lives alone, yet never feels lonely —her walks through the souks, with their spice-filled stalls and familiar chatter, form her quiet social life. At home, boleros and flamenco spin from her beloved gramophone, and the flowers on her balcony keep her company, tended with ritual care. However, her joyful routine shatters when her daughter arrives from Madrid —not just to visit, but pressured by financial issues to sell the flat, now legally hers after her father’s death. María Ángeles’s smile fades, but not the fire in her eyes as she is ready to defend her home, her roots, her belonging.

In a candid conversation held at the festival’s press office in the luxury Sofitel Downtown Hotel, Maryan Touzani revealed details around the autobiographical origins of the film, her process of working with Carmen Maura, the intimate and universal exploration of human life in Calle Málaga, and why ageing is a privilege that should be celebrated by cinema.

An emotion rather than an idea

“I started writing this film a long time ago as an emotional reaction to a recent loss”, explains Touzani when asked about the genesis of the film: “Calle Malaga was born out of grief, not as an idea. I had lost my mother, and unconsciously, I just needed to keep on talking to her —the writing process was an attempt to keep this close connection.”

Shooting in Spanish was, for Touzani, the most natural choice as it is her mother tongue. She felt the necessity to go back to her memories and somehow keep her mom alive, to keep feeling as if she was spending time with her. “Being surrounded on set by people speaking Spanish, was comforting. I used to speak to my mother in Spanish because I’m also partially Spanish —my grandmother was Spanish. I grew up speaking that language. This is how the character, Maria Angeles, developed in my memories of my grandmother. Everything got mixed up, taking me back to my hometown, Tangier. This was the first film I shot there.”

Carmen Maura, the embodiment of joie de vivre

“Working with Carmen was a wonderful experience,” Touzani recalls. “Carmen is full of life, full of depth, and has something very close to Maria Angeles’ character —a joie de vivre that is naturally part of her. During the shooting of Calle Málaga, she was living just 20 or 30 meters away from the flat we were shooting in, so it became her street as well. She wanted to feel the environment, listen to the sounds, smell the smells, and understand why this woman was so attached to her city. It was wonderful to share this journey with her.”

Carmen’s presence also allowed Touzani to explore a different kind of ageing. “Ageing is always shown in a certain manner in cinema. I wanted to show a process of ageing that is full of life, energy, and love for life and the future.”

Ageing as a theme of freedom

The film is as much about life and memory as it is about ageing. “It’s a lot of things,” Touzani explains. “Ageing is something beautiful. We tend to fear it, but it’s a privilege. I didn’t see my mother become as old as I would have loved. The wrinkles, the marks —they are a testament to a life we’ve had the privilege to live. I wanted to celebrate old age, ageing bodies, and freedom to grow old without society imposing expectations. Each person should have the freedom to age the way they feel, without conforming to others’ ideas.”

Calle Málaga also continues themes Touzani has explored in her previous films: personal continuity, death, finitude, and the passage of time. “All my films are born from something personal. This one goes further into that exploration. María Ángeles is at peace with her life coming to an end. She spends time in a cemetery, a place of reflection and serenity. Life is grief, sorrow, happiness —all combined. These themes are always there, but they emerge differently each time.”

Sex in the third age

Perhaps the bravest and, naturally, the most seductive element of the film is its interpretation of sexuality in later life, as María Ángeles experiences a love affair with an initially grumpy antiques shop owner who eventually melts under her magnetism.

“As we age, sexuality becomes something frowned upon, and we gradually get desexualised. María Ángeles refuses that. She enjoys her body and her desires. It’s important to show ageing bodies honestly, because cinema tends to hide them. Life is a rebirth. As long as we’re alive, there is nothing that should dictate an end. As I said earlier, ageing is a privilege.”

Carmen Maura, 79, initially hesitated at the nude scenes. “She loved the script and was ready to go for it,” the director recalls, “but she asked, ‘Do I really have to be naked?’ She had never done that before. I explained that it wasn’t simply about nudity, but about the freedom and strength that come with ageing —where you can say, ‘I don’t care.’ It’s about letting yourself be seen in the beauty of all age, affirming who you are, and embracing your soul. If she didn’t reach that point, what the film wanted to express would remain unspoken.”

Through long conversations, Carmen understood the intention: showing her ageing body with its wrinkles was not banal or voyeuristic, but a statement of beauty and resilience. “There was something she felt,” the director says, “something that gave her strength. Saying ‘I’m going bare’ was empowering, a declaration of presence and honesty.” Even the choice of whom she confides in in the film, a nun, adds complexity, showing that intimacy and pleasure transcend conventional boundaries.

The apartment as a character in Calle Málaga

A key location in the film —the apartment of María Ángeles with high ceilings, antique dark mahogany furniture, and touches of Oriental exoticism in the décor— was chosen with meticulous care. “Half of the film happens inside the apartment, so we could have shot in a studio, but I wanted to feel the soul of the place. It’s in the middle of a lively area, inside the Medina, going up to the Casbah. It’s owned by an old American lady, and it preserves the natural spirit of the Spanish-style building. For me, the apartment is a character. Its walls have witnessed decades of the character’s life. The street outside, the smells, the sounds penetrating its ambience, they all contribute to the authenticity of the story.”

Such an apartment also embodies generational and social contrasts. “María Ángeles lives in a reality where she can afford this apartment. Her daughter struggles daily, with two children and post-divorce life. Their realities are far apart. It’s not about blame, it’s about understanding. Each generation lives in a different time and space.”

Reframing the Maghreb

A curious aspect of Calle Málaga is its unusual portrayal of the Maghreb, which contrasts sharply with the way the region is often shown in cinema. Unlike many films, where the Maghreb is depicted as less desirable compared to Europe, here the old continent —though Madrid never appears on screen— feels like a hostile, alienating place of calculative thinking, while Morocco, and Tangier in particular, seems welcoming, alive, and domestic.

“For María Ángeles, Tangier is her little paradise”, Touzani elaborates. “She doesn’t need a paradise; she has her friends in the neighbourhood, people she’s known for so many years. The sun shines. Her life is in the heart of the city and she enjoys it. For many people, there’s a kind of douceur de vivre —a simple joy in living and human connections are still alive here. In bigger cities, as the world advances, people shop online and don’t necessarily go down to their local shops or cafés. That connection is being lost, but it still exists in Tangier. Of course, Tangier has grown a lot, but there are still places preserved. I’m nostalgic about this, and we can feel that in the movie.”

She adds, reflecting on her own experience: “After living in Europe and Miami, the reason my husband Nabil Ayouch (co-scriptwriter of Calle Málaga) and I decided to settle in Casablanca was to find exactly what I’m expressing in the film, an intimate place where you feel part of a community, where there’s a shop, a café, a rhythm of life that connects people. That human closeness is invaluable, and I wanted to preserve and celebrate it in the story.”

Memory, religion, and narrative choices

The guardian of María Ángeles’ secrets is a nun bound by a vow of silence, a figure that emerged unconsciously during Touzani’s writing. “When I write, it’s true that I don’t always know why a character appears,” she explains. The nun came to her mind naturally, shaped by childhood memories: “My grandmother was Catholic, and I used to go with her to the nuns. As a very curious, talkative little girl, I always wondered what these women felt and how they managed not to speak. That curiosity stayed with me and found its way into María Ángeles’ story.”

María Ángeles’ conversations with the nun reflect her own journey of intimacy, confession, and emotional exploration. Touzani adds, “There’s a connection between the character and my grandmother in these memories; María Ángeles embodies much of that.”

Historical layers and Tangier’s past

Tangier itself carries deep historical resonance in the film. The Cervantes Theatre, where María Ángeles once worked, was emblematic of a vanished Spanish cultural era. “It was created by a Spanish couple in 1913 who believed in culture when no one else did. They hosted the greatest Spanish singers of the time, but the theatre eventually closed for about 50 years,” the director recalls. “I grew up seeing it as a ghost in the background. We would walk or drive by it, and it was always there, a silent witness. There was talk of demolishing it, but it somehow remained there. And now it’s reopening, resisting time, resisting erasure, like María Ángeles herself.”

The theatre’s story parallels the character’s own resilience: “Resisting, resisting, resisting, and at the end, being reborn because she has decided to stay, to embrace her presence fully. It was a coincidence that the theatre’s revival and the film’s international release happened around the same time. Both the theatre and the character embody survival, memory, and cultural persistence.”

Arab cinema today

Touzani situates herself within a wider Arab cinema renaissance. “Today, Arab filmmakers are making their voices heard. They tell their own stories, offering perspectives beyond the media’s depiction of the region. Artists have a duty to provide new ways of expression through art, cinema, and music. It’s essential.”

Calle Málaga has been sold internationally and is Morocco’s official Oscar submission. European releases begin in February with the Spanish one coming on March 27th, with further plans for South America, the U.S., Canada, Asia, Australia, and New Zealand.