FICUNAM 2025

The abyssal river flows in a continuous stream of aquatic flora, fish, and waters tinged with blood red. We immerse ourselves in seaweed roots and magnetic antennas that guide us with their majestic continental ancestry toward the shaman's songs, evoking a possible destiny after the catastrophe. Chaos and Eros. The two shores to observe the movement of the waters and listen to the memory that inhabits the collective body, the force that moves the channel, the deep waters... Where are we going, where will we go in exile, where escape becomes impossible, petrified in this posthuman labyrinth?

Ten years ago, in Impression of a War, Camilo Restrepo explored how the war that has been tearing his native Colombia apart for decades has left traces that constitute a visual memory. With Room of Shadows, he invents an allegorical device that broadens and universalizes this reflection, drawing on examples from the entire history of representations of war and violence. At the center of the allegory stands a woman, alone in her home during wartime. She has no name, no identity of her own, like the war, from which we only hear the racket outside. Who is this woman? As she says at the beginning of the film, she is the first person to not only draw a portrait, but most importantly to memorize an image: the shadow cast on a wall by her lover before he went off to war – Pliny the Elder reread by Restrepo. Let's imagine that this woman has since memorized all representations of war. That, in her besieged room, certain images come back to her like shadows. When she isn't focusing on the war threatening to destroy her home, she begins to describe and interpret these images: a painting by Paul Klee, a film by Travis Wilkerson, a photo by Susan Meiselas, etc. Her words project the representations into the viewer's brain, which in turn becomes a room of shadows and a theatre of thought. At the heart of the film, the description of Brecht's Kriegsfibel, a.k.a. War Primer, confirms the Brechtian nature of the project: far more than an imaginary museum, Room of Shadows is a prototype of an educational machine, a war machine against the illusions that distort our relationship to representations, against all forms of manipulation of the relationship between image and reality. A camera lucida meant to enlighten us. Cyril Neyrat

The days slip by as I watch the trails of clouds drift away against a backdrop of desolate buildings. On the horizon, I hear the sound of that mountain lake. As I walk along the path or the grey pavements, a sudden vision of that garden resonates deep inside.

In a Cuban town, Visman, a young boy obsessed with historical fantasies takes refuge in them to explore the complexity of his family ties and the social environment. Tasked with caring for his disabled father single-handed, he will try to bring his epic story to life while sparring with everyday adversities and looking for a way out in a crumbling world.

El tercer paisaje / The Third Landscape is a film project that has as its protagonist the fungus that made the painted forest of Oma sick, the work that the Basque artist Agustín Ibarrola carried out in the 80s in the province of Bizkaia. This artwork belongs to the Land Art movement, which is mainly characterized by its ephemeral nature. Within this current, artists leave their works exhibited at the mercy of weather conditions and other elements alien to human will.

Dimitris Athiridis's fourteen-hour exergue – on documenta 14 follows curator Adam Szymczyk as he oversees the 2017 edition of one of the world's most influential art exhibitions.

They managed to save a pile of photographs and a diary with handwritten phrases from the fire. These words and faces are the only traces left of the man they once knew and loved. Crossing mountains and roads, they try to follow his tracks. The places they visit carry people, gestures, memories, and stories that gradually become part of their life.

Conceptualized by Godard and shot by his trusted collaborator Fabrice Aragno, with Exposé du film annonce du film "Scénario" the maestro — cigar in hand — presents a guided tour of a scrapbook-meets-storyboard for a feature left unfinished.

The film is set across the first two decades of the 21st century and tells the story of how a Chinese woman lives to herself in silence, celebrating the prosperous Belle Epoque with songs and dance. Some 22 years in the making, the film's first elements were shot as far back as 2001.

A symphony in three movements THINGS SUCH AS: A Mediterranean cruise. Numerous conversations, in numerous languages, between the passengers, almost all of whom are on holiday... OUR EUROPE At night, a sister and her younger brother have summoned their parents to appear before the court of their childhood. The children demand serious explanations of the themes of Liberty, Equality and Fraternity. OUR HUMANITIES. Visits to six sites of true or false myths: Egypt, Palestine, Odessa, Hellas, Naples and Barcelona.

"Fogo do Vento" follows some of the protagonists of the previous film, delving into the stories of this community in the Alentejo landscape, in a political film that summons the memory of previous generations and transports us from the resistance to the Salazar dictatorship to the present day, in a reflection on war and peace, highlighting the importance of its discourse in the current global context.

Breakage of a solid thing, especially a bone of the body or matter

At the end of the 19th century, Shanghai is divided into several foreign concessions. In the British concession, a number of luxurious "flower houses" are reserved for the male elite of the city. Since Chinese dignitaries are not allowed to frequent brothels, these establishments are the only ones that these men can visit. They form a self-contained world, with its own rites, traditions and even its own language. The men don't only visit the houses to frequent the courtesans but also to dine, smoke opium, play mahjong and relax. The women working there are known as the "flowers of Shanghai".

Follows the villager's reaction to three newcomers, who become scapegoats in a time of economic turmoil.

In a home perched high in the wooded hills outside Taipei, aging married couple Khim-Hok (Jason King) and Siu-Tuan (Yang Kuei-Mei) bicker, gripe, and commiserate, inhabiting the familiar rhythms of a well-trod daily routine—until a sudden death throws their world into a state of muted disarray.

A married woman and a single man have a love relationship marked by encounters and misunderstandings. In parallel, a dog wanders between the countryside and the city. The film explores the fragmentation of language and communication.

A loss adjuster attempts to escape the catastrophic and corrupt scenarios he confronts daily by acting in a play. This ends up taking a higher toll on him than his own work, forcing him to embark on a journey of self-discovery as he reflects on the parallels between real tragedy and staged drama.

Two women and two men meet to discuss language, love, wisdom, and existence. Through conversations filled with humor and depth, they explore the possibility of reconciling intelligence with human emotions.

This fully archival journey through the 35 years of Alfredo Stroessner's regime in Paraguay reveals unseen footage and explores one of the longest-running dictatorships in history, whose effects still resonate today.

Preeminent West African curator and scholar Funmilayo Akechukwu's magnum opus, , leads her to the heart of the Atlantic Ocean, drawing a journalist into a journey that shatters her understanding of consciousness and time.

Bogancloch is Jake Williams' home, nestled in a vast highland forest of Scotland. The film portrays his life throughout the seasons, with other people occasionally crossing into his otherwise solitary life. A sequel to Two Years at Sea (2011), charting a subtly changing life in a radically changing world.

While their mother unpacks removal boxes, Valentina (5) and Quique (11) run riot around the flat. Their parents have separated. When their father picks them up to show them his new, old life, the children receive a painful glimpse into the adult world.

Interrupting the silence, punctuated by the late summer rain, a group of boys shatters the matriarchal memory of an old bedroom. In the face of impending danger, the older boys vie for leadership. As the afternoon stretches on with the intensity of the rain and the heat inside rises, they resort to violence. In the vulnerability of a wounded body, Chico, the young misfit, encounters a tragic portent of desire.

In 8th century China, 10-year-old general's daughter Nie Yinniang is handed over to a nun who initiates her into the martial arts, transforming her into an exceptional assassin charged with eliminating cruel and corrupt local governors. One day, having failed in a task, she is sent back by her mistress to the land of her birth, with orders to kill the man to whom she was betrothed - a cousin who now leads the largest independent military region in North China. After 13 years of exile, the young woman must confront her parents, her memories and her long-repressed feelings. A slave to the orders of her mistress, Nie Yinniang must choose: sacrifice the man she loves or break forever with the sacred way of the righteous assassins.

In the heart of the Andes of Nariño (Colombia), stands the remnants of the once-prosperous textile factory, El Contadero, established in 1943. Now reduced to ruins, it serves as a movingbackdrop to the memories of Estela, an 87-year-old woman who worked in the factory from the time she was 16 years old until its closure. Through her memories we delve into the early years of the factory and life with her co-workers as well as the art of traditional guanga weaving, a practice to which Estela stills dedicates her life. Interwoven with Estela's narrative are glimpses into village life, where nature slowly reclaims the decaying ruins of the factory, and archival photographs from 1992 of the women weavers of the past. As the film unfolds, it confronts the failed promises of modernization and witnesses the gradual disappearance of the last guanga weavers of El Contadero.

A film essay that intertwines the gazes of the filmmaker and textile artist Elsa Atilano. Its vignettes reflect the prayer of the mysteries of the Rosary—a meditation that, like textile work, is structured through repetition. Through this radiography of reminiscence, grief, and absence, among other themes, the filmmaker delves into the archive of her late mother, unraveling and honoring the traces of her existence.

Driven to find a connection that gives meaning to their existence, a mutant being frees itself from its cycle of captivity to encounter an urbanized world, dominated by electronic ruins and collapsed structures. In this search for identity, between the artificial and the organic, between the oneiric and the real, they try to define themselves in a universe in constant transformation.

Sintra Diary offers a journey of involuntary memory, of sensory experiences that recall the past. Images that go beyond memory and communicate only part of their secret, transforming lost time into rediscovered time. Return to Portugal 25 years later. A return to the extinct past, both real and imagined. Glauber Rocha's photographs remain in time, but events are flows: the flow of the river, the tree, and the air.

After a premonition of an unusual bird, a father loses his voice. His daughter undertakes a search to rediscover him, through an intimate narrative that explores the past, the new facets and the silences of a man who is no longer the same.

An artist's investigation. A creative, formalist, and experimental exploration about and based on random images.

Amid the landscapes of Ecuador and Peru, 'Huaquero' reconstructs the fragmented memories of ex-looters of pre-Hispanic artifacts, blending documentary and fiction to reveal the tensions between ancestral knowledge, heritage crime, and colonial wounds that persist in these lands.

In 1969, Jean-Luc Godard and Jean-Pierre Gorin were commissioned by the League of Arab States to create a film portraying the struggle for Palestinian liberation. However, months after completing filming, Jordan's armed forces attacked the Palestinian resistance base, massacring thousands of Palestinian people, including innocents. With weakened spirits, Godard and Gorin questioned the nature of the images they had taken and decided to abandon the project. Godard returned to the material in 1974 with his new collaborator Anne-Marie Miéville, with whom he discovered that the translations of the words spoken by the Palestinian fighters that were originally given to them had been politically distorted. Godard and Miéville used the recordings from the initial film and conducted an analysis in which they deconstructed the production of the political image, questioning their own partisanship through the juxtaposition of French society and the life of the Palestinian people at war: the here and elsewhere.

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Yoko lives in Tokyo and, as a free-lance writer, sets out on the trail of music legend Jiang Ewn-Eye. During this task, she makes the acquaintance of the owner of a second-hand bookshop called Hajime. They spend a lot of time together and, in their company, the girl experiences a rare spiritual tranquility and equilibrium. Hajime feels the same way yet, although he loves Yoko, he remains silent. The girl leaves for busy Hokkaido to visit her uncle, who awaits an eye operation, and she also meets with her father and his wife. However, the easygoing atmosphere is disturbed when the girl makes a certain disclosure and by the way she sees her future panning out. Yoko has to re-think everything – her life, her relationship with her family and what awaits her in the next few months.

Orsolya is a bailiff in Cluj, the main city in Transylvania. One day she has to evict a homeless man from a cellar, an action with tragic consequences that triggers a moral crisis which Orsolya must weather as best she can.

Gema's alarming melancholy brings her three children together on the eve of an unusually cold Christmas in Guadalajara. After years of treating each other as strangers, the dusty family archive makes them confront their family's most painful hidden memories. During a spontaneous and cathartic weekend, the three siblings restore the bonds they thought they had lost.

What does the greening of Antarctica mean for seemingly remote places like Mexico? La m archa del l iquen tells the story of Antarctica's glaciers, its encounter with the sea, and the advance of lichen and moss. Meanwhile, on the Mexican coast, a community is forced to leave behind only a few memories.

On October 11, 2046, the sea devoured part of the Mexican territory. Almost all of Tabasco and part of Veracruz disappeared. What was known as Mexico is no longer. The blackness reached cities near the gulf, entered houses, shopping malls, the bodies of the sick—the fluid ran hurriedly through museums.

Lázaro, Luisa and Francisco, in their forties, live in Mexico City. Friends, they also form a loving trio. Nothing gives it away, as their exchanges are emptied of any affection. Prosaic, contradictory, repetitive, they diffuse a slight unease as much as they produce a comic effect. The first movement of Lázaro de noche shows their ordinary daily life punctuated by comical casting scenes, for a film about which we will know nothing, except the method of its director to audition them: observation. With Lázaro de noche , Nicolás Pereda continues his enterprise initiated more than fifteen years ago with his faithful community of actor friends. He brings them together in a mutant film with an unparalleled tone, in which he articulates images of the banal and the marvelous, and thereby explores the limits of realism, inspired by the words of the Argentinian writer César Aira. During a dinner that brings together the three protagonists, a change of camera angle and the emergence of a voice from the past plunge the film into another space-time, that of memory. Barely have they met in a writing workshop and the beginnings of their ballet of love been sketched out, when the evocation of the tale of Aladdin written at the time by Luisa projects the story into a third level of fiction and representation. Lázaro and his mother Teresita now embody Aladdin and his mother, in a profane variation of the tale, a fairy tale of raw triviality. If, over the course of its transformations, Lázaro de noche moves away from reality – from reality to memory, from memory to tale – it is without sacrificing any of its tangible materiality; the film seems to become disenchanted as it re-enchants itself. And if reading Aladdin is surprising - because, by making the same wish for food repeatedly, the hero "refuses to make the causal leap of magic and chooses the step by step of reality" (César Aira) -, Nicolás Pereda, himself, invites us to find the magic in this same step by step.

Nothing except silence. Nothing except a revolutionary song. A story in five chapters, like the five fingers of a hand.

Portrait of a commuter town in the suburbs of Paris, whose daily life was disrupted by the settlement of a Roma camp on an abandoned piece of land.

The story focuses on a boy and his childhood sweetheart who accompanies him to school by train every day. After graduating from junior high school, the boy becomes an apprentice in Taipei, and the girl follows him to work there. Life in the big city is tough; However, they support and take care of each other. Later on, the boy is conscripted into the army. He does his military service on an outlying island and eagerly stays in contact with the girl by mail.

Little, Big, and Far is a hybrid feature film with a focus on astronomy, physics, and natural history museums. The main character, Karl, is an Austrian astronomer and dark sky advocate, at a crossroads in life and work. At 70, with jobs at risk and his physicist wife distancing, he and his colleague, Sarah, also struggle with the environmental crises reshaping their fields. After a museums conference in Greece, Karl decides not to return home and heads for a small island in hopes of finding a dark enough sky to reconnect with the stars. Left on his own at a remote mountain trail, he ascends and waits for darkness to fall.

Moments and aspects of the daily life of a contemporary couple in transformation are narrated. The daily life they share in the film is recognized as difficult. The female character, older than her partner, opens the door to a possible exchange that seeks fraternity.

A science-fiction, dystopian plot; anti-colonialist and feminist politics; a variety of details from indigenous religion and myth; a personal journey to one's own past and roots: those are some of the elements conjured up by Omar Rodríguez-López in this inventive, ambitious, experimental film.

In Light in the Tropics, filmmaker Paula Gaitán weaves a dense structure of stories and timelines, intertwined with indigenous cosmogonies, travel journals, and anthropological literature. The film is a tribute to the abundant vegetation of the Americas and to the native populations of the continent. A film as fluid as a winding river.

The film is a collage —both of images and materials ranging from Super-8 to digital— created from the director's own collection, which includes a large amount of material gathered since her youth. A kind of 'note-film,' small musical compositions, essays on everyday life.

A man obsessively searches for his missing daughter after receiving disturbing videos exposing his secrets, leading to a chilling confrontation with the voyeur.

From birth to death, each subject remains intact. Three ages, three women: daughter, mother, and grandmother. Each of them, before and after, still and always. And men too, those they know and those they love.

Intimate and fragmented moments unfold in a community of zoos and animal rescue centers. As histories of these institutions are uncovered, dedicated workers commit both day and night to caring for the remaining enclosed animals, fostering a mutual bond that transcends imagined boundaries between human and animal.

In Venezuelan Guayana, large gold reserves lie beneath "moriche" palms, attracting multitudes of miners from across the region. A fictional narrator travels from far-flung mines in the jungle to the banks of the Orinoco River, trying to understand the uncertain fortune of the informal miner immersed in the anxious quest for treasure. His reflections combine illustrations and photochemical paintings to draw a map of the extraction and commercialization of gold, object and symbol through which he questions where value resides.

American filmmaker Julia Loktev, born in the Soviet Union, returned to Moscow in 2021 to make a documentary on the persistence of independent media journalism in Putin's Russia—just months, as it turned out, before the country's invasion of Ukraine. Structured in five chapters, Loktev's film is an extraordinary vérité document of a moment of immense change and anxiety.

Fragmented memories and visions find a home in light and shadows, bridging the gap between the past, the present and the loss of a mother.

Taiwan, an island in the southern seas. For both mainland China and Japan that ruled the island for 50 years, Taiwan is the south -hot and humid. But today, in the 90's, what shape does Taiwan find itself in? Kao is riding the mini-train to Ping Chi to set up a 10 day gambling den whith his friend Hsi. Kao is taking Flat-Head, his acolyte, and Pletzel, Flat Head's girlfriend, who works part-time in a nightclub. Kao's girlfriend Ying, who works in the same nightclub as Pletzel, doesn't like the people around Kao, finding them dangerous. But Kao has already made a deal with Hsi to invest in a nightclub in Shanghai. Ying doesn't want him to go. She wants him to stay in Taiwan to open a restaurant…

Abandoned houses, surviving objects that carry memory. Exiled from Iran after her film on the 2009 Green Movement was banned, a filmmaker breaks her family's decades-long silence about a disappeared cousin, executed during the 1988 purges in Iran's political prisons. Grappling with estrangement and loss, she uses fragments, archives, and the images made during her years of diaristic filming in Iran to reflect on the collective taboo, the fear that silenced the population for so many years, and the explosion of resistance that continues to grow within Iranian society today.

Because the night belongs to lovers. Because the night belongs to lust. Because the night belongs to lovers. Because the night belongs to us." (Patti Smith)

Two housewives discuss philosophical topics (a modern version of the dialogue between Plato and Socrates) while doing household chores. The husband of one of them rehearses his role in a play at the theater. Upon returning home, the couple decides to go on vacation to the mountains.

In Spring 2022 Masha prepares to leave Russia - her homeland that has changed. It turns into a chain of unexpected farewells: her mom dies of cancer, her lover flees army conscription, everything including her own old self is falling apart. Her way to cope with the grief is to fixate everything with her camera. Her anger guides her to inner emigration to the local underground scene, which became an escape for young russians. This kaleidoscope of shards chronicles not only the spirit of the time, but the director's personality crumbling against the backdrop of global turmoil.

A digest of elements from Lewis Carroll's Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There (1871), with Delphine Seyrig playing one of the novel's most memorable characters: the White Queen. Befitting the tale's many chess metaphors, de Kermadec elected to use a luscious black and white image for her sophomore short. A most exquisite and sensual example of feminist filmmaking.

Struggling with depression and social anxiety, Paul has found refuge in serving women who invite him to clean their homes. By sharing his gently eccentric routines on social media, he combats loneliness and takes it one day at a time.

Thousands of years ago, cinema germinated on the slope of a mountain in Peru. The signal of its movement is sustained in the volcanic stone that was once its skin, which changes and transforms without stopping.

The found fragments of exile bring life to an unfinished film started by a Brazilian artist who lived in Los Angeles. Working under a pseudonym, the unknown filmmaker lingers on absences, empty landscapes and disembodied voices. These visual vacancies act as apparitions of a distant Brazil wrought by US Imperialism and military dictatorship. An unfinished piece, the film portrays the lingering fragments of work as dispersed as the diasporic maker.

The attractive Vicky who works at a night club is torn between two men. The first, Hao-hao, not only allows himself to be supported by her but also follows her every move, both at home and at work. He checks her accounts, rummages through her bag and even sniffs her body to pick up traces of infidelity. Vicky is soon no longer able to stand this humiliation and runs away from him. Hao-hao finds her, however, and begs her to come home. The other man, Jack, with whom Vicky finds refuge, is trying out some business ventures. His willingness to help out anyone who needs it starts to complicate his life. Even so, the affinity between them might turn into a closer friendship….

As New Year's break is coming, Zhili's textile workshops are almost deserted. The few remaining employees are desperate to be paid for their trip home. From the banks of the Yangtze River to the mountains of Yunnan, everyone will be celebrating the festivities in their hometown, and performing the rituals of prosperity among their families. For Shi Wei, it's also the opportunity to get married, as it is for Fang Lingping. Her husband, a former IT specialist, will have to follow her in Zhili after the ceremony. Learning is hard, but does not hinder the advent of a new generation of workers.

In this enveloping second part of the Youth trilogy, shot between 2015 and 2019, Wang Bing deepens his vérité portrait of a generation struggling to survive on meager wages amidst a nation's economic expansion, emphasizing the distrustful, increasingly combative relationship between workers and management.

Under the imposing snow-capped mountains of Utah, a Mexican family lives with the uncertainty of a loved one's disappearance. Through carefully crafted shots, Say Goodbye reveals the loneliness and silence tainting the daily routine of Rosa, Sol, and Javier, as the void becomes a constant presence. An achingly powerful and relevant film.

The last completed film by the veteran Jean-Luc Godard, finalized the day before his assisted death in September 2022, Scénarios folds together many of his lifelong inquiries into a precise, sober treatise on art, cinema, language, and death.

The journey of a man through time and infinite space. Paths appear as you walk.

Mark Brown is a paleobotanist. He has devoted his life to a crazy project: recreating a primary forest in his own garden in Normandy. Viewers of Pierre Creton's previous film, A Prince, already know him: he is the man giving a lecture on the origin of flowers to the class of Alberto, played by Vincent Barré. Those who are familiar with Creton's work will recognize the members of his usual band, all gathered here. Because his films, whether made alone or with Vincent Barré, always come from a place between curiosity and friendship, adventure and loyalty. This time, the adventure involves letting Mark Brown guide us, walk after walk, in search of the endemic plants of the Pays-de-Caux. In 2006, Barré and Creton made a wonderful film-herbarium in the high-altitude valley of the Spiti River, in the Himalayas: The Arch of the Iris (FID 2006), a film vibrant with beauty, the handheld DV camera collecting each specimen in situ. By replaying this gesture in more familiar landscapes, between the Seine and the cliffs, the directors give it a whole new dimension. First, there is "The Shooting," filmed digitally: the little band joyfully strolls, from meadow to peat-bog, following in their guide's wake. One takes notes, another records sounds, a few chat along the way, and Mark gushes over each and every flower. Meanwhile, the last one bustles about, focused on his task: checking the light, choosing the focal length, triggering the shot that will capture on film the singular beauty of each plant. The collection of these shots forms the second part of the film: "The Herbarium". After the wide shots and landscapes, after the digital image, the sudden appearance of flowers in close-ups, transfigured by 16mm, is a wonder for the eyes. Flower after flower, in a low voice, as if intimidated by so much beauty, Mark Brown improvises a commentary, between science and poetry. Too modest to say it aloud, he shares another lesson by example: getting closer to plants, sharing their lives, is a condition for poetic survival in the midst of disaster. Cyril Neyrat

Three members of the legendary gang Los Panchitos, who terrorized Mexico City in the 80s, now face their reality. While some died or were lost in the streets, Ulti, Chivo Loco, and Canon struggled for redemption, freedom, and survival. Sex Panchitos, the legend continues.

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From 2013 to 2034, three radical filmmakers exchange a series of documentary and fictional telegrams from different parts of the world, amid a war of colonization waged by global powers.

Tonalli is cinema as ritual, with pulsating images, the rhythm of the music and the ecstasy of light flashing in a darkened room. The film has three movements: Xochiyáoyotl (the 'Flower war'), Tlecacitl (a solar-lunar ceremony where Xolotl, the god of lightning and death, emerges) and Tonalli (the sun's radiating warmth). In collaboration with student musicians from Codarts who will perform a live accompaniment, this Mesoamerican incantation will stir our Rotterdam audiences.

After discovering some undeveloped negatives that belonged to his grandfather, the filmmaker begins an investigation to dig up the stories of his ancestors, driven by the question of how the past influences the present and the fragility of memory, which disintegrates over time. An exploration about memory through the study of soils and personal recollections.

An anthology of dreams from people who had to leave their homes only to find themselves in Europe, in a Tower of Babel where no one speaks the same language, and no one understands each other. Here, people walk around lost, meeting each other in their dreams and searching for ways to return home.

Every document of civilization is at the same time a document of barbarism. The phrase is from Walter Benjamin. Tatiana Mazú González takes up the beginning of it to title her film. "And the same barbarism that affects it, also affects the process of its transmission from hand to hand," continues the author. Against this barbarism, and to account for the struggles of individuals made invisible, erased from the writing of History, Tatiana Mazú González rises up. In Río Turbio (FID 2020), she went to war against the ostracization of women from the eponymous mining town. There, she takes up the case of the forced disappearance of Luciano Arruga, a teenager tortured and killed by the Buenos Aires police, to conduct a clinical and critical examination, meticulously dissecting the traces of the state crime. "Reality is a stratified mass grave; this film, a process of excavation," writes the director. Positioned at the intersection of General Paz and Mosconi avenues where the teenager was last seen, her camera, as if to detect the invisible, stubbornly scrutinizes the details of the landscape – asphalt, traffic lights, waste – which she brings together, through editing, with a whole corpus of iconography constituting the memory of the young man – archives of gatherings in his honor, graffiti, photos. In doing so, Tatiana Mazú González brings to light the truth of a counter-History, which the crystalline voice of Luciano's mother, an admirable tragic storyteller, hammers home with anaphora, nuances and silences. Against the barbarity of a transmission process that never ceases to obscure the vision of the "vanquished" (Benjamin) and to silence their words, there remain images, faces and stories, to which cinema, that is to say the montage of images, faces and stories, can still give substance, to restore all their power of protest.

Migrate. Seize land. Give birth. Christmas. A neighborhood emerges from southern Patagonia. Houses burn, birds call. What does it mean to build? Mothers are reborn from the colors of the steppe. They march. They plant. Their voices hold sheet metal in the wind.

Gilberto leaves his home on the last day of his father's life, travelling around the city in search of the places that were meaningful to him: his old house, the museum where he worked, and the streets of a very lively city. This escape becomes a reconstruction of the father, a journey through memory and a farewell.

In 1947, when he was still a baby, Ah-ha and his family left China for Taiwan. They first settled near Taipei, then moved to the south of the island where the climate was milder for the father, who suffered from asthma. Pampered by his grandmother, little Ah-ha grew up in a family that was soon struck by illness: from the mischievous little boy he was at ten years old, he turns into a taciturn and rebellious teenager...

The tiger has been stolen, or who let it escape? They deprive even the residents of water. Who should you pay attention to? To order, to one's own judgment, to fantasy? The tiger prowls the silent road, hides behind the golden mountains. This fable about the transition to adulthood, tells of lands, towns and people, who can also be cruel. It faces the disappointment of seeing things as they are, when the roar of a tiger awakens.

Where do devices for capturing the world end and other instruments of perception begin? At what point did everything become camera, screen, microphone, resonator, amplifier? Artifacts deprogrammed by hands, beaks, tentacles. Claws, pincers, jaws; explorations of other tangible worlds. Machines with will, crossed by forces, presences, manifestations of gravity, radiation, electricity, magnetism.

A time capsule of New York City between August 13-15, 1965, framed by the Beatles' arrival in the city and their first concert at Shea Stadium. The film consists exclusively of archive material from the period (ABC, CBS, NBC), 8mm home movies and images of the concert, which was recorded with fourteen 35mm cameras. Four teenagers are sent on a trip through time and inserted in the archive material by means of animation.

The first feature film directed by Paula Gaitán. This documentary is a deep immersion into the life and traditions of the Kamaiurá people. Her lens captures the Kuarup Ceremony, a funeral ritual popular among the peoples of the Upper Xingu. This portrait reveals the cultural strength of a people and an ambition for diversity that history tried to deny. In Xingu, the Kuarup—a great festive event in which men steal divine fire and scatter it across the earth—is celebrated every year in the Kamaiurá village. Nine tribes participate in the ritual to the sound of uruá flutes, with the presence of shamans Tacumá, Sapaim, and Prepori, among others.

Chiapas, southeastern Mexico. When the people of Tila and other villages run the town hall and police out of their territory, they face the challenge of exercising self-governance. "A Bigger Place" draws on the tradition of direct cinema to explore the construction of autonomy in Mayan Ch'ol territory, a region historically marked by paramilitary violence and Zapatista aspirations.

After opening a shoebox, Diego begins to feel severe fatigue that prevents him from performing everyday activities and leaves him bedridden. At the same time, his friend Liz suffers from mysterious insomnia while working on a stage production. Concerned, his mother urges him to seek help, and following Liz's advice, Diego consults various sources for a solution, from a doctor to a motivational coach, eventually ending with a revealing tarot reading. Liz needs a larger space to continue developing her stage production, and Diego lends her the patio of his house. This sparks a series of interactions between Diego and Liz where they discuss memory, while exploring possible solutions for the insomnia and narcolepsy they are experiencing. Liz's stage production is finally ready, and Diego is the first to see it.

The James Webb Telescope discovered a planet, LH1140. It aroused interest because its shape resembles that of a human eye. It could have harbored life, lying 50 light years away and orbiting its host star. They managed to intercept and decode a ghost radio frequency coming from that planet. The following film contains fragments extracted from such signal.

In 1945, the Okinawa caves offered the population shelter from the bombs and the US troops' arrival. Kaori Oda's film works in different visual layers, superimposing oral memory culture over historical wounds. The past casts shadows over the present.

Gabriela has lost her dog Porro and is looking for him, helped by a childhood friend. The plot is as simple as pie, a beautiful pretext for setting off to meet a working-class neighborhood in Chile, of which Beatriz Arias paints a vivid portrait in colors, in a few sensitive, lively and precise strokes. The empathy that one can feel in the face of the dismay of the main protagonist remains in the background as the figure of the lost dog and the cinema share here in harmony and with joy the same movement: wandering. Of course, Porro is missing. But according to the canine point of view invented by Beatriz Arias, Porro is happy, returned to the sovereignty of his wandering pleasures of rummaging through trash cans or teasing a cat. And this is how the camera (and the spectator), freed from any narrative stake, can let themselves go to search the streets, to intrude into the interiors. And to pick up the soft grace of two young women who exchange a ball on a soccer field under a bright sun. That of the round arms of other women who prepare pies in a small kitchen. That of the smiles that a bingo evening brings together around large mixed tables. Here is a tender and sincere attention paid to simple gestures as to people, in which a nostalgia is also lodged. Whether the latter is for childhood or an immemorial plenitude, what seems to be sought in Volver a recorrer las mismas calles is ultimately not so much a dog as the way of being to grasp the fragile and vibrant poetry of the moment. Beatriz Arias composes an ode to the stray dog , and in doing so to wandering, the only one capable of putting us on the path of encounter and joy, of random surges "ahead of ourselves".

What is the best of time? It is a bliss of not having it again. We remember it not because it was wonderful moment, on contrary, because we lost it forever, we can only recall it with our memory, that is why it is wonderful. Three different times, 1911, 1966, 2005, three stories, the same actor and actress, May and Chen, through the movie as a chant of their love of three life times.

Three young boys leave their small fishing village to find work in the city. Drawing on childhood reminiscences, this is a bittersweet meditation on the dashed hopes of youth; the film that Hou Hsiao-Hsien considers the true beginning of his cinematic style.