Marie Pomme Carteret

We are somewhere in the north of Spain. After crossing a town, in the rain, at the end of a tunnel, the valley of Solana opens up. The grain and the flickering of the film add a dreamlike quality to the journey that begins in the deserted mountains. For thirty years now, the villages have been emptied of their inhabitants, who were snatched by the towns, as a shepherd tells Emmanuel Piton.

A primeira vez que entrei no Tribunal de Paris eu tinha 20 anos. Seis mil, novecentas e noventa e nove portas, 3.150 janelas e 24 quilômetros de corredores, segundo a lenda. Nas noites em que precisava ficar até tarde esperando um veredito, me afastava das luzes e mergulhava nos corredores cada vez mais escuros. Ouvia ruídos vindos das profundezas. Tinha a sensação de que a Corte estava viva e parecia se mover. Sua remoção iminente apressou a minha volta. Das passagens cheias de labirintos e meus encontros, das histórias escondidas, surge peça por peça o retrato de uma ideia abstrata: a justiça.

In the 1930’s, the workers of the underground, headed by brigades of writers, are in charge to write in real time "the history of the Moscow Metro". Based on their narratives, partially unpublished, the film recounts the first lines construction of the most beautifiul underground in the world, in the light of this "big literary Utopia", stoped by the purges of 1937-38.

An enchanting mini-portrait of Antoinette, an 86½-year-old magician. Clad in a dress coat and white satin top hat, the elegant Parisienne performs ostensibly simple tricks with astonishing sleight-of-hand. With no more than a napkin, tissue paper or a rain of plastic flowers, Antoinette conjures up a hopeful universe.

A Chilean returning to Santiago to find out what has happened to his native country while he has been away, discovers much about himself.