Txintxua Films

Khalil is a young man torn from his roots who lives on the edge of town, where the industrial estates merge into the river and the marshes. Khalil gets by as best he can and spends his time with an old poacher, who shares a house on the riverbank with a brother he hasn't spoken to in years. On the banks of the marshes, the tides mark the time of love and heartbreak, of friendship and revenge.

The story of a family; the story of a conflict. The rural and the urban, the past and the present, parents and their offspring: opposing ways of life struggle against one another whilst, in eloquent silence, the grandmother ('amama') watches her family’s destiny unfold.

When the rain ends, life sprouts from the earth. A fruit grows and becomes the apple that gives life to the cider. Then comes the time of harvest, toasting and celebrating love. A story about the cycle of life and death, of the struggle for survival. Where the passage of time is marked by the course of nature, music and dance.

A sinister tale of ships and shipwrecks, love and cinema, ghosts and vampires. Bram Stoker, author of Dracula, his wife Florence Balcombe and her relationship with Oscar Wilde. Friedrich Wilhelm Murnau and the lurking shadow of Count Orlok, the undead, the nosferatu. A mysterious cruise ship, a profaned tomb, an exciting adventure.

—You really loved him? —Yes, I stopped loving him recently. (Interferences. Silences. Fissures. Two women talking. A radio-graphy).

Plague: From the Latin word “plaga” meaning 'blow', 'wound'. Meaning: Massive, sudden appearance of living beings of the same species that cause serious damage to animal or plant populations. Abundance of something harmful.

The employee comes to the factory every day. He is the only person who is qualified to do his particular job. It is precise, mundane, and repetitive work. Every morning he goes through the same drill, starting up each machine. Today, though, he has made a decision...

A woman was almost called Avioneta (Small Airplane) at birth. Another had a library in the back seat of her car. Yet another fractures her finger with the rebel shelves of her bookshop. Lectors read to cigar makers while they work. Women remember poems while they iron. And to them all I sing.