Bringing back to life the traces yellowed by time of an existence carefully stored in the archives. Giving body to one of the most beautiful Polish poetic voices of the 20th century. Building in the most rigorous and mastered documentary tradition a memorial and a vibrant homage. These are the promises kept by All of Me Will Not Disappear . Zuzanna Ginczanka was shot, at the age of 27, in 1944, at the dawn of growing recognition in Polish literary circles. Joanna Grudzinska takes this tragic death as a starting point to place on maps of Poland today the story of an existence whose dazzling trajectory takes us back to Nazi barbarity, then to the intellectual effusion of the 1930s, the chronicle of a war foretold – there's too much coming: either love or war – and finally to the rebellious adolescent, attentive to the first stirrings of a woman's body. Joanna Grudzinska's beautiful operational gesture is to reverse the course of things. She proceeds to a journey back in time, from death to life, guided by the enlightened gaze of researchers and specialists. The moving and scientific interviews are matched by the tight framing of the light writing of personal diaries, the aged calligraphy of vintage press clippings. The breath of her poetry contaminates the documentary material, infiltrates the gardens of Lviv, the streets of Warsaw, and mingles with the rustling of nature. All of Me Will Not Disappear is a film inhabited by the rebellious and sensual words of "The Star of Zion," whose vitality and modernity are loudly proclaimed. Young teenage girls here and there recite the poems aloud; women chant their rights in demonstrations. An ode to freedom through a vitalist and feminist work, All of Me Will Not Disappear, whose title refers to the 1942 poem nicknamed Non omnis moriar, looks at contemporary Poland which, far from welcoming the gesture, has chosen to censor it.