Mario Casas: The Life Story Behind Spain's Heartthrob

Mario Casas was twenty-four when Tres metros sobre el cielo made him the most famous young actor in Spain, and the film is still the centre of his story, the role against which every other role is measured. He was born on 12 June 1986 in A Coruña, a port city in Galicia in north-west Spain, and he grew up in a family that moved to Barcelona, where he began acting as a teenager, in television, in small roles, in a world that was Spanish, Catalan and Galician all at once. He became a star of Los hombres de Paco, a popular television series, and then he became Hache, the bad boy on a motorcycle in Tres metros sobre el cielo, a film that made teenage audiences in Spain fall in love with him, and that made him a heartthrob, a label he has spent the rest of his career trying to escape, by taking serious roles, by working with serious directors, and by proving, again and again, that he is more than a pretty face on a motorcycle.

A Coruña, 1986: A Childhood in Galicia

Mario Casas was born in A Coruña in 1986, a port city on the Atlantic coast of Galicia, a city of rain, of fishing boats, of a lighthouse that is two thousand years old, and he grew up in a family that was close, with parents who supported his interest in acting, and with siblings who also became actors. The family moved to Barcelona when he was young, and the move gave him a second home, a Catalan city, a city of theatre, of film, of television, and the two homes, Galicia and Catalonia, are the two halves of his identity: he is Galician, he is Catalan, he is Spanish, and he belongs to all three, and the belonging is visible in his work, which moves between Galicia, Barcelona and Madrid, and which is always, in some way, about home.

The Galician beginning matters because it gave Casas a sense of being from somewhere specific, a place that is not Madrid, a place that has its own language, its own culture, its own rain, and the specificity is the foundation of his acting: he plays men who are from somewhere, who have a home, who have a family, and who are trying to leave or to return. The family also matters, because his siblings, Óscar and Christian, are actors too, and the house was a house of performance, of rehearsal, of talking about acting, and the talking is the education: Casas learned to act at home, by watching his family, by trying, by failing, and by trying again.

Barcelona and the First Television Jobs

Casas began acting as a teenager in Barcelona, appearing in television series, in small roles, in a world that was Catalan and Spanish, and the early work taught him the basics: how to hit a mark, how to remember lines, how to work with a camera, and how to behave on a set. He appeared in Obsesión in 2005, a television series, and in Motivos personales, and in SMS in 2006, a series about teenagers, and the roles were small, but they were a beginning, and the beginning was serious, because Casas took the work seriously, he arrived on time, he knew his lines, and he learned. The Barcelona years were a time of learning, of taking the small role, of waiting, and of building a working life, and the building is the foundation of everything that came after.

The television work also taught him how to handle attention, because a young actor on television is watched, is judged, is talked about, and Casas learned early how to live with that watching, how to keep his private life separate, and how to keep working when the attention became uncomfortable. He has spoken about the pressure of growing up in public, and about the importance of having a family that kept him grounded, and the grounding shows in his adult work: he is a professional, he arrives on time, he knows his lines, and he does not make a drama of the job. The teenager became an adult actor without the scandals that often follow teenage fame, and that is a credit to him and to his family.

Los hombres de Paco: Aitor and National Fame

The role that made Casas famous in Spain came in 2007, when he was cast as Aitor Carrasco in Los hombres de Paco, the Antena 3 series about a group of policemen in Madrid, in which he played a young policeman, a man who is funny, who is loyal, who is trying to do his job, and who is, in many ways, the heart of the show. The series was a hit in Spain, it ran for years, and Casas played Aitor from 2007 to 2010, and the role made him a star among television viewers in Spain, a face that the audience knew, a name that the audience trusted, and a young man who had to learn how to be famous at twenty-one. The series was a demanding job: it filmed at speed, the storylines were intense, the audience was passionate, and Casas learned how to sustain a character over many episodes, how to work with a large ensemble, and how to handle the attention of fans who felt that they knew him.

Los hombres de Paco mattered for another reason, which is that it gave Casas a reputation as a reliable actor, a man who could carry a long-running series, who could be funny and serious, and who could work with a large cast. The role also taught him about the limits of fame: he has spoken about the pressure, about the difficulty of being recognised everywhere, and about the need to step back and to choose his next work carefully. He left the series in 2010, and the decision to leave was a brave one, because the show was still popular, and leaving meant giving up a secure job, but it also meant freedom, and Casas chose freedom, and the freedom led to Tres metros sobre el cielo.

Tres metros sobre el cielo: Hache and the Heartthrob

The film that made Casas a star came in 2010, in Tres metros sobre el cielo, released in English as Three Steps Above Heaven, directed by Fernando González Molina, based on the novel by Federico Moccia, in which he played Hugo, known as Hache, a bad boy on a motorcycle, a young man who is angry, who is violent, who falls in love with Babi, played by María Valverde, a good girl from a wealthy family, and who tries to change for her. The film was a huge success in Spain, it became a phenomenon among teenagers, it made Casas a heartthrob, a face on magazine covers, a name that young viewers knew, and it also made him a star in Latin America, where the film was a hit as well. The role is the centre of his career, and it is also the label he has spent the rest of his career trying to escape, because Hache is a romantic hero, a bad boy with a heart, and the audience loved him, and the love is a trap, because an actor who is loved as a heartthrob is often not taken seriously as an actor.

The film’s success was extraordinary: it was one of the highest-grossing Spanish films of its year, it spawned a sequel, Tengo ganas de ti, released in 2012, in which Casas returned as Hache, and the two films together made him the most famous young actor in Spain. The sequel showed Hache in London, trying to start a new life, falling in love again, and the story is the same as the first: a bad boy who tries to be good, and who fails, and who tries again. Casas played Hache with a physicality, a anger, a tenderness, that made the character believable, and the believability is the performance: the audience believed that Hache was real, that he was angry, that he loved Babi, and that he was trying, and the trying is what made the audience love him.

Contratiempo: The Invisible Guest

In 2016 Casas starred in Contratiempo, released in English as The Invisible Guest, directed by Oriol Paulo, in which he played Adrián Doria, a successful businessman who is accused of murder, and who hires a lawyer, played by Ana Wagener, to help him prove his innocence, and the film is a thriller, a puzzle, a story in which nothing is as it seems, and the audience does not know, until the end, what really happened. The film was a huge success, in Spain and around the world, it was remade in other countries, and it proved that Casas could carry a thriller, that he could play a man who is charming, who is lying, who is guilty, and who is trying to hide it, and that the audience would follow him, even when they did not trust him. The role is a long way from Hache, and the distance is the point: Casas was no longer the heartthrob on a motorcycle, he was a businessman in a suit, a man who is lying, and the lying is the performance.

Contratiempo matters because it showed Casas as an adult actor, a man in his thirties playing a complicated, difficult man, and it showed that he was willing to take risks, to play a character who is unlikeable, who is guilty, and who is fascinating. The film’s success opened doors for him, and it also set a pattern: he would work with serious directors, he would take difficult roles, and he would trust that the audience would follow him into uncomfortable places. The thriller is now one of the most successful Spanish films of its decade, and Casas’s performance is at the centre of that success, and it remains one of his best.

Palmeras en la nieve and the Epic

In 2015 Casas starred in Palmeras en la nieve, released in English as Palm Trees in the Snow, directed by Fernando González Molina, in which he played Kilian, a young man who, in the 1950s, travels to the Spanish colony of Fernando Poo, now Bioko in Equatorial Guinea, to work on a cocoa plantation, and who falls in love with a local woman, Bisila, played by Berta Vázquez. The film is an epic, it is a love story, it is a story about colonialism, about a Spain that is now gone, and Casas’s performance is at the centre of it: he plays Kilian as a man who arrives innocent, who learns, who loves, and who loses, and the learning is the story. The film was a success in Spain, it was one of the highest-grossing Spanish films of its year, and it showed that Casas could carry an epic, that he could play a historical character, and that he was not just a heartthrob, but a leading man.

The film matters for another reason, which is that it gave Casas a chance to play a man who is not a bad boy, not a businessman, but a worker, a man who goes to Africa to make a living, and who finds love, and the ordinariness of the character is the point: Kilian is not special, he is a young man from Spain, and Casas plays him as such, with a simplicity, a honesty, and a warmth that make the audience care. The epic is also a story about Spain’s colonial past, a subject that is painful, and Casas’s performance does not shy away from the pain, it shows a man who is complicit, who is in love, and who is trying to do the right thing, and the trying is the performance.

El fotógrafo de Mauthausen: Francisco Boix

In 2018 Casas starred in El fotógrafo de Mauthausen, released in English as The Photographer of Mauthausen, directed by Mar Targarona, in which he played Francisco Boix, a Spanish photographer who was imprisoned in the Mauthausen concentration camp during the Second World War, and who smuggled out photographs that proved the crimes of the Nazis, photographs that were later used as evidence at the Nuremberg trials. The role is one of the most serious of Casas’s career, because Boix is a real person, a hero, a man who risked his life to tell the truth, and Casas plays him with a gravity, a seriousness, and a physical transformation, losing weight, changing his appearance, that show his commitment to the role. The film was praised in Spain for its honesty, for the way it told a story that is painful, and Casas’s performance was at the centre of that praise, because he made Boix a man, not a symbol, a man who is afraid, who is brave, and who is determined.

The role matters because it proves that Casas is a serious actor, a man who is willing to take on a historical subject, to play a real person, and to do it with respect. The physical transformation, the weight loss, the change in appearance, is the visible sign of the commitment, but the real transformation is internal: Casas plays Boix as a man who is trying to survive, who is trying to tell the truth, and who knows that the truth may kill him, and the knowing is the performance. The film is a reminder that Spanish history is full of stories that need to be told, and that Casas, a Galician actor who became a heartthrob, is now telling them, and telling them well.

No matarás and the Goya for Best Actor

In 2020 Casas starred in No matarás, released in English as Cross the Line, directed by David Victori, in which he played Dani, a young man who, after a night out, becomes involved in a series of violent events, and who has to decide how far he will go, and the film is a thriller, a study of a man who loses control, and Casas’s performance is extraordinary, because he plays Dani as a man who is ordinary, who is good, and who becomes violent, and the transformation is gradual, it is believable, and it is terrifying. The performance won him the Goya Award for Best Actor in 2021, the highest honour in Spanish cinema, and the award was a recognition that Casas, the heartthrob from Tres metros sobre el cielo, had become one of the best actors in Spain, a man who could play a difficult, violent, complicated character, and play him without asking the audience to forgive him.

The Goya matters because it is the proof, the official recognition, that Casas is a serious actor, and it is also a turning point, because after the Goya, the roles changed, the directors changed, and the audience changed its mind about him. He was no longer Hache; he was Dani, he was Francisco Boix, he was Adrián Doria, and the three roles together are the portrait of an actor who has grown up, who has learned, and who has earned the respect of his peers. The award is not the end of the story; it is the beginning of a new chapter, a chapter in which Casas is free to choose, and in which he chooses difficult roles, because the difficult roles are the ones that matter.

The Paramedic, The Occupant and Netflix

In 2020 Casas starred in two Netflix films, El practicante, released in English as The Paramedic, directed by Carles Torras, in which he played Ángel, a paramedic who, after an accident leaves him in a wheelchair, becomes obsessed with his girlfriend, and who becomes violent, controlling, and dangerous, and Hogar, released in English as The Occupant, directed by Àlex and David Pastor, in which he played Javier, a man who loses his job, his house, and his life, and who becomes obsessed with the family who moves into his old home. The two films are thrillers, they are dark, they are about men who lose control, and Casas plays both with a intensity that is frightening, and the intensity is the point: these are men who are ordinary, who are good, and who become monsters, and Casas makes the becoming believable, because he plays the ordinariness first, and the monstrosity second.

The Netflix films matter because they introduced Casas to a global audience, an audience that had not seen Tres metros sobre el cielo, that had not seen Contratiempo, and that now saw him as a thriller actor, a man who could play a villain, a man who could be frightening, and the global audience liked what it saw. The films were successes for Netflix, and they proved that Casas could work in streaming, in a global market, and hold his own. The roles also show his range: Ángel is a paramedic in a wheelchair, Javier is an unemployed advertising executive, and the two men have nothing in common except the actor, and the actor is the point.

Bird Box Barcelona and the Global Stage

In 2023 Casas starred in Bird Box Barcelona, a Netflix film, a spin-off of the 2018 film Bird Box, in which he played Sebastián, a man who, in a world where a mysterious force drives people to kill themselves if they see it, tries to protect his daughter, and who has to navigate a Barcelona that is empty, that is dangerous, and that is full of people who have lost their minds. The film is a thriller, it is a horror, it is a story about a father, and Casas’s performance is at the centre of it: he plays Sebastián as a man who is afraid, who is determined, who is trying to be a good father in a world that has gone mad, and the fear is the performance, because the audience believes it, because Casas believes it. The film was a success for Netflix, and it gave Casas a global audience, an audience that had seen Bird Box, that knew the world, and that now saw a Spanish version of it, with a Spanish actor at its centre.

The film matters because it shows Casas on a global stage, in a franchise, in English and Spanish, and it shows that he can carry a film that is not Spanish, that is international, and that he can do it without losing himself. The role is a father, a man who protects his daughter, and the fatherhood is the point: Casas, who is now in his late thirties, is playing fathers, is playing men who are responsible, and the responsibility is the sign of maturity, of an actor who has grown up, who has learned, and who is now playing the roles that matter to him.

Instinto, Family and the Private Life

Casas has also worked in television in recent years, including in Instinto, a Movistar+ series from 2019, in which he played Marco, a man who is a successful businessman, who is also a man with a secret, and the series is a drama about desire, about power, and about the difficulty of being honest, and Casas’s performance is at the centre of it, a man who is controlled, who is successful, and who is hiding something, and the hiding is the performance. The series was a success in Spain, and it showed that Casas could carry a television drama, that he could play a complex man over many episodes, and that the audience would follow him.

He keeps his private life private, he does not share it on social media in detail, and he lets the work speak, and the choice is a statement: the actor is not the gossip, and the gossip is not the art. He remains close to his family in Galicia and Barcelona, and he has spoken about his siblings, about the importance of home, and about the need to protect his private life. Casas is now in his late thirties, he has a Goya, he has a global audience, he has a career that is his, and he has the freedom to choose his next work, and the choices he has made suggest that he will keep choosing difficult roles, keep working in Spain, and keep building a career that is his.

The Heartthrob, the Actor and the Goya

Casas’s place in Spanish cinema is secure, and it is a place that no one else occupies. He is Hache, he is Adrián Doria, he is Francisco Boix, he is Dani, and the four roles together are the portrait of an actor who was a heartthrob and became a serious actor, who was famous at twenty-four and who is respected at thirty-eight, and who earned the respect by working, by taking risks, and by proving, again and again, that he is more than a face on a motorcycle. The Goya is the proof, and the proof is deserved, and the career is the story of a man who refused to be a label, and who became an actor instead.

My Take:

The first thing to say about Mario Casas is that Hache is a trap, and Casas knows it. Hache, the bad boy on a motorcycle in Tres metros sobre el cielo, made him famous, made him a heartthrob, made teenage audiences in Spain fall in love with him, and the love is a trap, because an actor who is loved as a heartthrob is often not taken seriously as an actor. Casas spent the rest of his career trying to escape that trap, by taking serious roles, by working with serious directors, by playing Francisco Boix, by playing Dani, and the trying is the story. The Goya for No matarás is the proof that the escape worked, that the audience and the industry now see him as an actor, not as a heartthrob, and the proof is deserved, because the work is real.

The second thing is the Goya, and what it meant. No matarás is a film about a man who loses control, who becomes violent, and Casas plays Dani as a man who is ordinary, who is good, and who becomes a monster, and the transformation is gradual, it is believable, and it is terrifying. The performance won the Goya for Best Actor in 2021, and the award was a recognition that Casas had grown up, that he was no longer Hache, that he was a serious actor, and the recognition mattered, because it changed the roles he was offered, it changed the directors who wanted him, and it changed the way the audience saw him. The Goya is not the end of the story; it is the beginning of a new chapter, a chapter in which Casas is free to choose, and in which he chooses difficult roles.

The third thing is Contratiempo, and the thriller. Casas plays Adrián Doria, a businessman accused of murder, a man who is charming, who is lying, who is guilty, and the audience does not know, until the end, what really happened, and the not knowing is the pleasure. The performance works because Casas plays Adrián as a man who is trying to hide, who is trying to control the story, and the control is the character. The film was a huge success, it was remade in other countries, and it proved that Casas could carry a thriller, that he could play a man who is unlikeable, and that the audience would follow him. The thriller is now one of the most successful Spanish films of its decade, and Casas’s performance is at the centre of that success.

The fourth thing is Francisco Boix, and the seriousness. Casas played a real person, a photographer who was imprisoned in Mauthausen, who smuggled out photographs that proved the crimes of the Nazis, and he played him with a gravity, a physical transformation, a commitment that show his seriousness as an actor. The role is a long way from Hache, and the distance is the point: Casas was willing to lose weight, to change his appearance, to play a man who is afraid, who is brave, and who is determined, and the willingness is the mark of a serious actor. The film was praised in Spain, and Casas’s performance was at the centre of that praise, because he made Boix a man, not a symbol, and the humanity is the point.

The fifth thing is the physicality, and how Casas uses it. Hache is physical, he rides a motorcycle, he fights, he loves, and the body is the character: a young man who acts with his body, who does not think before he acts. Dani in No matarás is physical too, but the physicality is different: it is the physicality of a man who is losing control, who is becoming violent, and the violence is in the body, in the hands, in the face. Francisco Boix is physical in a third way: it is the physicality of a man who is starving, who is suffering, who is surviving, and the suffering is in the body. Casas’s body is the instrument, and he plays it well, and the audience sees the difference between the three men even before it hears them speak.

The sixth thing is the Galician identity, and how it survives. Casas was born in A Coruña, he grew up in Galicia and Barcelona, he speaks Galician and Catalan and Spanish, and he has kept that identity even as he became a global star. The identity matters, because it gives him a home, a language, a place that is his, and the home is the anchor. The global fame could have made him a citizen of nowhere, a man who belongs to the internet, but he belongs to Galicia, to Barcelona, to his family, and the belonging is the point. The audience in Galicia claims him, and the audience abroad claims him, and both claims are true, which is a difficult balance, and Casas holds it well.

The seventh thing is the family, and the brothers. Casas’s siblings, Óscar and Christian, are actors too, and the house was a house of performance, of rehearsal, of talking about acting, and the talking is the education. The family matters because it gave Casas a sense of acting as a job, as a craft, as something that is done every day, not as a fame, not as a glamour, and the sense is visible in his work: he is a professional, he arrives on time, he knows his lines, and he does not make a drama of the job. The brothers are also a support, a reminder that acting is a family business, and that the business is about work, not about fame.

The eighth thing is the Netflix films, and the global audience. The Paramedic and The Occupant introduced Casas to a global audience, an audience that had not seen Tres metros sobre el cielo, and the audience saw him as a thriller actor, a man who could play a villain, a man who could be frightening, and the global audience liked what it saw. The films were successes for Netflix, and they proved that Casas could work in streaming, in a global market, and hold his own. The roles also show his range: Ángel is a paramedic in a wheelchair, Javier is an unemployed executive, and the two men have nothing in common except the actor, and the actor is the point.

The ninth thing is Bird Box Barcelona, and the father. Casas plays Sebastián, a man who tries to protect his daughter in a world that has gone mad, and the fatherhood is the point: Casas, who is now in his late thirties, is playing fathers, is playing men who are responsible, and the responsibility is the sign of maturity. The role is a long way from Hache, the bad boy on a motorcycle, and the distance is the measure of how far Casas has come, from a teenager who falls in love to a father who protects his daughter, and the journey is the career. The audience that watches Bird Box Barcelona sees a mature actor, a man who has grown up, and the growing up is the story.

The tenth thing is the voice, and how it carries the performance. Casas’s voice is Galician, it is Catalan, it is Spanish, and it is warm, it is direct, and it can be angry and tender in the same scene. In Tres metros sobre el cielo the voice is young, it is angry, it is the voice of a bad boy, and in Contratiempo the voice is controlled, it is the voice of a businessman who is lying, and in No matarás the voice is ordinary, it is the voice of a man who is losing control, and each voice is different, and each voice is his. The voice is the instrument, and Casas plays it well, and the audience hears the difference between the three men even before it sees them.

The eleventh thing is the privacy, and the boundary he keeps. Casas keeps his private life private, he does not share it on social media in detail, and he lets the work speak, and the choice is a statement: the actor is not the gossip, and the gossip is not the art. The woman who plays characters who are watched, who are judged, who are followed, is himself a man who wants a private life, and he protects it. The boundary is healthy, and it is also useful, because it means that when Casas appears on screen, the audience sees the character, not the celebrity, and that is a rarer and more valuable thing than it used to be.

The twelfth thing is the age, and the maturity. Casas was twenty-four when Tres metros sobre el cielo came out, and he is now in his late thirties, and the performances have grown with him: Hache was a young man, Adrián was a man in his thirties, Dani was a man who loses control, Francisco Boix was a man who survives, and each role shows a different age, a different maturity, and the maturity is the actor’s, not just the character’s. The later work is better because the actor is older, because he has lived more, because he has learned more, and the learning shows. The audience that watches No matarás is watching a mature actor, a man who has spent fifteen years learning his craft, and the craft is visible in every scene.

The thirteenth thing is the range, and how wide it is. Hache and Francisco Boix have nothing in common: one is a bad boy on a motorcycle, the other is a photographer in a concentration camp, and the same actor played both, and played both well. The range is not a trick; it is a discipline, the discipline of a man who learned by working, who worked in television, in film, in thrillers, in epics, and who never lets one role bleed into the next. The audience that watches Tres metros sobre el cielo and then watches El fotógrafo de Mauthausen is watching two different men, and the fact that they are the same actor is the point. Casas’s range is the range of a serious artist, and it is rare.

The fourteenth thing is the future, and what it might hold. Casas is in his late thirties, he has a Goya, he has a global audience, he has a career that is his, and he has the freedom to choose, and the choices he has made suggest that he will keep choosing difficult roles, keep working in Spain, and keep building a career that is his. The audience should expect more films like No matarás, more men who are complicated, more performances that ask the audience to think, and the expectation is a happy one, because Casas has earned it. The boy from A Coruña who played Hache became one of the best actors in Spain, and the becoming is not over.

The fifteenth thing is the influence, and how it is already visible. Young Spanish actors cite Casas as an influence, young men see that a heartthrob can become a serious actor, and the seeing is the influence. The influence is not a matter of copying; it is a matter of permission, of Casas giving other actors permission to be a heartthrob and a serious actor, to be famous young and respected old, to be themselves. The permission is the gift, and it is a gift that will last longer than any single film, because it changes what other artists believe is possible.

The sixteenth thing is the legacy, and what it will be. Casas’s legacy is Hache, Contratiempo, Francisco Boix, Dani, four roles that are now part of Spanish cinema, four performances that are now part of the audience’s memory, and the four together are the proof of his talent. The legacy is not just the films; it is the proof that a heartthrob can become an actor, that a young star can become a Goya winner, and that the work, done patiently, is the way. The audience that watches Tres metros sobre el cielo now still believes in Hache, still cries when he loses Babi, and the believing is the legacy, and it will last.

The seventeenth thing, and the last, is the lesson. Casas’s career says that a boy from A Coruña can become one of the best actors in Spain, that a heartthrob can become a Goya winner, and that the work, done patiently over decades, is the way. He acted as a teenager, he played Aitor, he played Hache, he played Adrián, he played Francisco Boix, he played Dani, and he never stopped, and the never stopping is the point. The lesson is not that talent will always be recognised, but that the work, done with honesty and with a willingness to take risks, is its own reward, and that the reward, when it comes, is deserved. Casas’s reward has come, in the form of a Goya, of a global audience, of a career that is his, and the audience that watches him now knows that it is watching a great actor, and that the greatness was earned, in A Coruña, in Barcelona, in Madrid, and in every film where he refused to be a label and became an actor instead.

Frequently Asked Questions

Who did Mario Casas play in Tres metros sobre el cielo?

He played Hugo, known as Hache, a bad boy on a motorcycle who falls in love with Babi, played by María Valverde, in the 2010 film Tres metros sobre el cielo (Three Steps Above Heaven), which made him a heartthrob in Spain and Latin America.

What Goya Award did Mario Casas win?

He won the Goya Award for Best Actor in 2021 for No matarás (Cross the Line), in which he played Dani, a young man who becomes involved in a series of violent events after a night out.

Who did Mario Casas play in Contratiempo?

He played Adrián Doria, a successful businessman accused of murder, in Contratiempo (The Invisible Guest) from 2016, directed by Oriol Paulo, a thriller that became one of the most successful Spanish films of its decade.

Who did Mario Casas play in El fotógrafo de Mauthausen?

He played Francisco Boix, a Spanish photographer imprisoned in the Mauthausen concentration camp who smuggled out photographs used as evidence at the Nuremberg trials, in the 2018 film The Photographer of Mauthausen.

Where was Mario Casas born?

He was born on 12 June 1986 in A Coruña, a port city in Galicia in north-west Spain, and his family moved to Barcelona when he was young, where he began acting as a teenager.

What role did Mario Casas play in Bird Box Barcelona?

He played Sebastián, a man trying to protect his daughter in a world where a mysterious force drives people to kill themselves if they see it, in the Netflix film Bird Box Barcelona from 2023.