A violent and unruly man appears injured and without memory in a riverside community, who accuses him of robbery and tries, in vain, for him to recover his memory and return the money. In a popular trial, a plot involving domestic and gender-based violence, human trafficking and embezzlement of public funds comes to light. Sentenced to isolation, he seeks a new meaning for his life.
A trip across various parts of the world and of other times to understand my ideologic heritage and what to do with it. Opera Prima is my first look at the world that becomes a mirror in which to recognize myself.
This film fable is not presented as an attempt to stop the natural course of existence, but as a way of approaching life and reconciling ourselves with its rules. Director Carolina Campo Lupo and Eliana were friends since they were teenagers, they grew up together and always accompanied each other, learning how to become women, mothers, friends and political beings. One day Eliana falls ill and, not knowing what to do, Carolina gives her her film camera as a way of dealing with the uncertainty. From that day on, together they begin to film their last encounters. With the camera as a witness, free and shared between adults and children, they go through the small moments of life; the everyday becomes transcendent and love emerges as the only thing capable of sustaining us.
The way in which every moment lives a security guard who works at night, discovers his steps.
After the coup in Uruguay in 1973, thousands of intellectuals and artists fled the country. The filmmaker’s father was among them and left for Europe. After his passing, she came upon some Super 8 movies and audio files he had recorded. Through this archive, she started building a new family story trying to reveal and understand the silent pain of exile.
At 88 years old, my grandfather Fernando suggested that we make a film together. His proposal comes when I tell him I'm moving out of his house. So we started filming, me with my camera and he with his. Although we have lived together for more than 20 years, it is through the camera that we see each other like never before. That Breath is an intimate record of our bond, love and loss, in search of understanding what it means to be alive.
Delia has been writing poems ever since Jorge, her husband, was imprisoned during a dictatorship. These texts were her refuge, a place where she could express what she never shared, what she had to put aside to support her family. When the dictatorship comes to an end, freedom seemed to have come for everyone, but she continued writing. Today, Delia hands me her poems to share with her family.
