Alejandro Vázquez San Miguel

No synopsis available yet.

No synopsis available yet.

Memory prevents rest and a woman about to die takes advantage of cinema to tell her story (inseparable from that of Franco’s Spain) and to say goodbye. A terrace as a border and a song that crosses time. At home, nothing is always—and everything is still—in the present and defunct now. A home movie of ghosts, a generous gesture of intimacy and solidarity that not witnesses two people at the end of their long lives, but also reveals the weight of history and of the 20th century, which is always present today.

No synopsis available yet.

No synopsis available yet.

No synopsis available yet.

No synopsis available yet.

Memory prevents rest and a woman about to die takes advantage of cinema to tell her story (inseparable from that of Franco’s Spain) and to say goodbye. A terrace as a border and a song that crosses time. At home, nothing is always—and everything is still—in the present and defunct now. A home movie of ghosts, a generous gesture of intimacy and solidarity that not witnesses two people at the end of their long lives, but also reveals the weight of history and of the 20th century, which is always present today.

Memory prevents rest and a woman about to die takes advantage of cinema to tell her story (inseparable from that of Franco’s Spain) and to say goodbye. A terrace as a border and a song that crosses time. At home, nothing is always—and everything is still—in the present and defunct now. A home movie of ghosts, a generous gesture of intimacy and solidarity that not witnesses two people at the end of their long lives, but also reveals the weight of history and of the 20th century, which is always present today.

Memory prevents rest and a woman about to die takes advantage of cinema to tell her story (inseparable from that of Franco’s Spain) and to say goodbye. A terrace as a border and a song that crosses time. At home, nothing is always—and everything is still—in the present and defunct now. A home movie of ghosts, a generous gesture of intimacy and solidarity that not witnesses two people at the end of their long lives, but also reveals the weight of history and of the 20th century, which is always present today.