Portugal, 1975. A time of rough changes. A young gay artist trapped in a small seaside town ran by communist winds. Al Berto, the writer, embodies an entire moving generation. He and his friends exude youth, eccentricity and hope for the future - but right after the fall of Portugal's dictatorship system, the country is not yet ready for his love story.
“I love poetry because it makes me feel like my mind expands.” In Regard Silence, that's the very first sentence expressed—in sign language of course. Watching the poems signed by deaf people in this film has a similarly mind-expanding effect. That’s because sign language—the Mexican version in this case—is a very different means of communication than written or spoken language.
Pedro is Mallorcan, born to a mother from Burgos and a father from Mallorca. Due to his distant relationship with his father, Pedro doesn't fully master Mallorcan as a language. He turns to the works of Damià Huguet to remember his father, as only his poems can fill the void left by his death. The poet's words transport Pedro to his childhood and his roots, even though many of the words are unknown to him, despite them belonging to his language. This becomes the driving force behind the protagonist's search for his own identity, his origins, what it means to be a man, father-son relationships, collective identity, and "mallorquinness". Pedro constantly questions the emotions stirred by Huguet's poetry, and, most importantly, who he is and where he belongs.
The experimental animated film Song of the Flies (El Canto de las Moscas), translates the desolation caused by the violence of the Colombian armed conflict through the poetic voice of Maria Mercedes Carranza (1945–2003) and the audiovisual dialogue between 9 Colombian women. In 24 places, as a transit over the course of a day (Morning, Day, Night) a map of terror is drawn where massacres took place in Colombia in the 1990s. Archival images, the artists’ personal memories and the use of loops and analogue materials bring to life the landscapes ravaged by violence and build a polyphony of memory and mourning, a universal song of pain.