Emilio Fonseca

‘Can you smell that?’ The camera goes deep into the forests of Galicia and the north of Portugal among whispers. We need to sharpen our senses to weave the signs left by wildlife. Wild, Wild tracks images and absences of Iberian wolves. The film navigates a relational history, laden with folk mythology, submission and extermination, and confronts an audiovisual history made of images-simulacrum of the natural wild. This film essay is a nature antidocumentary: it features wolves that look back at the camera, terrified, and humans that can howl. All of us creatures leave traces in this careful dance of tracked trackers.

‘Can you smell that?’ The camera goes deep into the forests of Galicia and the north of Portugal among whispers. We need to sharpen our senses to weave the signs left by wildlife. Wild, Wild tracks images and absences of Iberian wolves. The film navigates a relational history, laden with folk mythology, submission and extermination, and confronts an audiovisual history made of images-simulacrum of the natural wild. This film essay is a nature antidocumentary: it features wolves that look back at the camera, terrified, and humans that can howl. All of us creatures leave traces in this careful dance of tracked trackers.

‘Can you smell that?’ The camera goes deep into the forests of Galicia and the north of Portugal among whispers. We need to sharpen our senses to weave the signs left by wildlife. Wild, Wild tracks images and absences of Iberian wolves. The film navigates a relational history, laden with folk mythology, submission and extermination, and confronts an audiovisual history made of images-simulacrum of the natural wild. This film essay is a nature antidocumentary: it features wolves that look back at the camera, terrified, and humans that can howl. All of us creatures leave traces in this careful dance of tracked trackers.