Writing
A man leaves the hospital. He sets out on a journey, perhaps a final one. Alongside the mystical landscapes drift the verses of Hospital Británico (1986), the last book by Héctor Viel Temperley. And the words of those who have been marked by reading it over the years.
A mixture of documentary and fiction as seen through the eyes of a non-participant observer, this drama presents the life of the fisherman Maldonado. After his wife Celia leaves him, we watch his lonely life in a series of cyclical everyday activities as we listen to Celia's voiceover. Although it tends to repeat itself, it reveals something new every day. We always observe a different part of the daily work of a fisherman, or see it from a different angle. This sense of conflict is heightened by contradictory motifs on-screen and in the voiceover. Words clash with images, the everyday with the extraordinary, space with time.
MĂłnica did not make a client's payments of the office where she works. The missing 15K pesos not only commit her but also a colleague, who is the one who discovers the fault. It seems that is not the first time that this happens, but the colleague, despite his anger, kept silence and chose to believe her again: MĂłnica commits to replenish the sum of money the next morning.
A couple builds a space to live. When it is finished, before inhabiting it, they invite a group of people to visit it. The invited people circulate individually through this new and empty space. They look, they walk, they talk. The film tries to rescue the effect of that experience in each one of them. So the space itself becomes an experience. What will they leave of themselves? What will they take? What will they show of the human? What is a house? What do you do with the past? The series of people who briefly inhabit that place, recently built, still free of all traces, could be thought of as infinite. The space fills and empties. The residual of that transit remains: a luminous fragility.
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