Miguel Herrán, the Malaga-born star who triumphs on Instagram and in cinema: "I am clear about who I am"

Next week marks the premiere of 'La tregua', a film based on the true story of Spanish prisoners who survived in a Russian gulag during World War II. These days, he is juggling the film's promotion with another shooting and has also just opened his first business away from the cameras: a pizzeria in El Palo called Casa Bella Ciao, a nod to Rio, the character from 'La casa de papel' that brought him global fame (and nearly eleven million followers on Instagram, four million more than, for example, Penélope Cruz).

But Miguel Herrán (Fuengirola, 1996) speaks with a calmness more typical of an experienced man than of an actor who has not yet turned thirty. He has a lot of street smarts. Dani Guzmán saw it a decade ago when he cast him without knowing him, just from seeing him, in 'A cambio de nada', for which he won the Goya that changed everything. "You have made a boy with no hopes, no desire to study, who likes nothing, discover a new world and want to study and work and cling to this new life as if there were no other. You have given me a life," he dedicated to him then. Today, that boy born in Malaga but raised in Madrid, says he would be "proud" of the man he has become.

–You touch on a topic that was taboo for a long time: Spain's support for Hitler during World War II.

–I think, more than a taboo, it has been a subject that has caused some national embarrassment and that's why it has been tried to be covered up, hidden. But it's nice to portray it in a film, to be able to tell this historical fact and also give it a more human and empathetic viewpoint beyond the military conflict and the division of both sides.

–Because the movie's message is conciliatory.

–Yes, the message is that, regardless of the ideologies and sides chosen, behind every caricature of what can be a soldier or a socialist or a nationalist there are people. They are still human beings, individuals who have their families, their lives, their principles.

–Do you think it's possible to love someone who is ideologically the polar opposite of oneself?

–Yes, of course. Without a doubt.

–Ángelo Néstore said the other day that you can even love someone you don't understand, whose language you don't speak.

–Without a doubt. In the shoot I'm on now, I have a colleague who says he became vegetarian for love. And I think that happens often. If love arises, there is no ideology or division that can stop it.

–And as an actor and public figure, how does this polarization affect you? Because anything you say is likely to end up in a headline, taken out of context, and lead to you being labeled one way or another.

–You have to bear in mind that we live in a society where everyone has a platform to express their opinions to a greater or lesser extent. I am very clear about who I am, my ideology, my values. And if someone who doesn't know me judges me based on a headline or a comment or a particular moment, I think the mistake is on the part of the person judging, rather than the judged. So, I have no problem. I understand that part of my profession and the public exposure it entails causes everyone to think they have the right to have an opinion. And yes, they have every right to judge. But I only give power to my loved ones; if my mother judges me, she does it from an extreme knowledge of who I am. That can affect me, but being judged by someone who doesn't know me or who might think they know me based on things they've read? That doesn't affect me at all.

–Did you learn this over the years or is it innate?

–I learned it over the years and through my own experiences, because I have been judged but I have also judged a lot. And I have come to the conclusion that many times we come from the fog or from having a bad day or simply from not having slept. Now I am aware of that: I might have a certain impression of you but I don't know where you come from or who you are.

–You leave the door ajar.

–Exactly. It's like if you join a team and someone, for example, from the Art department gives you a bad response or doesn't look at you and you automatically think: what a jerk.

–But you don't crucify them.

–That's right. I can say "what a jerk" but I don't demonize them. There are probably things I'm not seeing that make them behave that way. Let's see how it goes tomorrow or after lunch or what happens if I approach them differently.

–Because we all are someone's jerk at some point.

–Yes, yes. Even the most fantastic and wonderful person has moments when you might think they're an idiot.

–I don't know if now that ten years have passed since 'A cambio de nada' you have taken stock.

–It's something I try to be aware of, because in the end this is a long-term career and if you forget where you come from it's difficult to decide where you want to go. I often think: "Damn, if I met myself right now from when I started, would I feel proud?"

–And would that Miguel from ten years ago like you?

–I'm completely convinced that yes. There would be many things he wouldn't understand because he hasn't lived them yet, but I think he would feel proud.

–Speaking of your roots, you just opened a pizzeria in Málaga.

–Málaga is my birthplace, I have a lot of family there. I've spent almost all my Christmases there and it's a city I'm very fond of. And now it's the place where I've decided to start my first business, which is detached from the audiovisual industry. It's a project I'm very fond of because I've also set it up with the producer of 'A cambio de nada', Miriam Ruiz Mateos. It's called Casa Bella Ciao in honor of everything 'La Casa de Papel' gave me back then. And I really liked the concept of setting up something with the person who gave me my first job.

–Is it a show of loyalty, then?

–I believe loyalty is one of the values that should be pre-installed in our minds. If you're not loyal and you don't have your word, for me there's a point of depersonalization.

–And what do you feel when you return to Málaga?

–Well, a lot of tranquility, a lot of peace. It's a feeling of family, of wanting to see my cousins who live there, of seeing my mother. Málaga is very enjoyable for walking, for tapas, for eating skewered sardines, for being able to have a beer peacefully on the seafront. It's a city I like a lot and to which I am very attached.