As the 2025 Annecy International Animation Film Festival approaches, anticipation builds for the world premiere of “Olivia and the Invisible Earthquake,” a poignant stop-motion feature directed by Spanish filmmaker Irene Iborra that charmed at the French festival with a Work in Progress presentation last year.

Adapted from Maite Carranza’s novel “La Vie est un film,” the stop-motion feature – the first ever from Catalonia – follows 12-year-old Olivia, who, after her family is evicted, convinces her younger brother that their hardships are part of a movie they are starring in. This imaginative coping mechanism sets the stage for a luminous drama that explores themes of resilience, solidarity, and the power of storytelling in the face of adversity.

Iborra, making her feature directorial debut, brings a handcrafted aesthetic to the film, utilizing animated objects to create a tactile and emotionally resonant world. The film has been praised for its sensitive portrayal of complex social issues, such as housing insecurity and parental depression, making it accessible to both children and adults.

Ahead of its Annecy debut, Variety sat down with Iborra to discuss the creative journey behind “Olivia and the Invisible Earthquake,” the realities of making a stop-motion feature in Spain and the role of animation in addressing real-world issues.

Honestly, no. I didn’t realize it was the first feature film in Catalonia until we were already in pre-production. For me, what really mattered was the story and telling it through stop-motion because of the textures and the poetry this technique brings, something you don’t find in others. Only later did it dawn on me that it hadn’t been done before here. But we already had a community; I’m a teacher in a master’s program that’s been running for 10 years. So people were already making short stop-motion films. This project felt like a natural evolution.

We wanted to tackle difficult topics in a luminous, gentle way, making them visually pleasant. The characters were designed by Morgan Navarro, a French comic artist. They’re stylized, but because their clothes are made from real textures, they feel close to us despite their abstract faces. For example, we used wool for the hair, a texture I had worked with in my short films. I also deliberately avoided the typical round shapes of children’s animation. Instead, we went for more defined lines, especially in the noses, to break that mold while still keeping them appealing.

The sets are highly realistic, including actual graffiti found around Barcelona. I took photos around the city with Morgan, and the set design team recreated them beautifully. There’s a constant tension between stylized puppets and realistic settings, which helps us feel both immersed in the story and aware that it’s a crafted world. Also, details like making the characters more saturated in color than the backgrounds were carefully planned to underline our concept that people shape the space around them.

I really pushed some boundaries here. Themes like the mother’s illness and Olivia’s panic are hard to present to kids. So, while the ground opens up and she falls into darkness, what she finds is a more peaceful, inner space. The stress of the fall is balanced with calm lighting and gentle design as she descends. These decisions were made together with the cinematographer, using light to make the environment gradually more serene.

In stop-motion shorts, mental health is a frequent topic, so it didn’t feel foreign to me. For Olivia, I liked the idea that fear can send us inward, into a personal space filled with metaphors like the whale or the furniture. That’s where solutions might lie. We debated a lot about sound design, too; we didn’t want to terrify children. I hope I didn’t go too far, though we’ll see what age range responds best. The little brother is seven, but the film might be more suitable for eight or nine and up.

We always saw it as auteur cinema for children. It’s an adventure film, fun, emotional, maybe even tear-jerking, but definitely adventurous. We have great distribution partners: Pyramide internationally, Filmax for Spain and strong support from broadcasters like Televisión Española, TV3 (Catalonia) and À Punt (Valencia). Belgian, Swiss and French TV are also on board. Despite the risks, many believed in the film’s potential.

We were passionate but inexperienced. It was my first feature, and [producer] Mikel [Mas]’s first stop-motion film of any length. That led to stressful situations. The budget, while high for a first film, was low for a stop-motion feature, which meant cutting corners. Sometimes we had to sacrifice quality or perfection in favor of practicality. That was hard for everyone, but I’m happy with the balance we struck.

The arrival of more experienced French and Belgian producers helped stabilize things. But yes, we had to work under pressure, sometimes making tough calls like telling people, “This isn’t perfect, but it’s what we can do with the resources we’ve got.”

This is only the third stop-motion feature made in Spain, after “O Apóstolo” and “Pos eso.” So yes, it’s rare. But this film has massively increased the experience level of the teams involved. Whether another project of this scale will happen soon, I don’t know; it’s not easy to gather five production companies from around the world again. But the talent and know-how are here now.

Initially, each production company had its own space, one for puppets in Barcelona, another for sets in Valencia, some decor and 3D face modeling from Chile, puppet work in France. Eventually, we centralized everything in a huge studio in Sant Martí for shooting. Post-production was spread out – some in Switzerland, France, Belgium – but the physical shoot was all in one place.

Are you planning to travel with the film now that it’s finished?

Absolutely. I’ve been with this film since 2017, adapting Maite Carranza’s novel, and I won’t leave it now. I already have festivals lined up, including Annecy. I believe this film needs my presence. It’s delicate, it touches on sensitive topics like anxiety and depression. As both executive producer and director, I feel a strong responsibility to support and explain it to audiences around the world.