A dead body has appeared in the Arga river. No one has missed him or reported his disappearance. Although it seems like it will be another normal working day for the detective Ana Miravalles, she will experience for the first time the disadvantages of working in her own town. In fact, she suspects that his daughter Eukene might know something. From that moment on, Ana will have to make a decision.
Is artificial intelligence a disruptive revolution that will change the way animation is done forever? Round table on the ethical, technical and artistic challenges which arise from making AI part and parcel of animation, and also exploring the opportunities afforded by this technology and how its tools can transform the future of this sector.
In the theatre of the Cold War, astronauts lost in the Darien Gap are besieged by their deepest fears when surprised by an indigenous person. Did they think they were going to be decapitated, or eaten by a wild cannibal? A deconstruction of film and propaganda archives from tropical survival training challenges the colonial narrative inscribed in the conquest of space.
The shop manager of a floating bordershop-container in the Baltic Sea, casts off the chains to shore to save the universe of love she and her employees have created inside.
In 1967, in the midst of Franco's dictatorship, a group of seminarians thirsty for freedom founded the group Enarak. They played pop, rock and psychedelia, styles that were foreign to the society of the time, and all of it entirely in Basque. After hundreds of concerts, they mysteriously disappeared in 1971. Fifty years later, the singer's son, Beñat, sets out to find traces of the group, immersing himself in a film labyrinth that mixes ornithology, collage and eccentric research.
In 1979, the Virgin of Zikuñaga disappeared, leaving its inhabitants without her iconic image. A gap in the niche; a collective void. This is a film about gaps. My father, the filmmaker Juanmi Gutiérrez, passed away some years ago. Now, from a distance, I return to his films in an exercise of personal memory through the image, or rather, through its absence. Can the lack of an image be as strong as its presence? And in that case, what do we do with this emptiness?
