Javiera Véliz Fajardo

The wind, the birds, the sweat, the hands, the wheelbarrow, the drought and the burial. Could it be possible to disappear in the desert? Totoral is a village that fades away behind its hills. A village that emerged and learned from the land and its animals, and from staying safe. The desert is constantly changing, the trees dry up, and they, the men, with their animals, wipe away their footsteps and their presence as time goes by.

The absence of his mother at home has made Joselito's relationship with his father increasingly colder.

Herminia is 63 years old, and Victor, her partner, is 33. He works as a housekeeper, while she spends her days laughing and sharing cigars with her friend Sole (48), who has had a relationship with Osvaldo since they were children. Together with their other companions at the Putaendo Psychiatric Hospital, they share friendship and life. They dream, form sides, fight and also love each other. They live maintaining the hope of leaving the place that for many decades has made them invisible from everything. Will their love be able to transform the look?

Pedro has lived in the desert for four years, along with his mother and sister; voluntarily marginalized as a result of an inexplicable plague that affected them, their days pass slowly, dry and heavy. Young people must look for water, take care of them, live the painful process of the disease and see their bodies decay while the water is scarce. Death is fast approaching, while the desert blooms at its side.

In the shadow of her last harvest, a Chilean vineyard worker and her son, returning from Catalonia, transform filmmaking into an intimate ritual to inhabit their grief together and bid farewell to a place, a time, a summer and perhaps to who they once were.

A body in the water outlines an imprint on the sea, quickly disappearing on the surface. The reflection of an intense blue becomes dark, almost black, like the depth of the ocean. The presences of the exterior reverberate offshore, shifting the harmony of its waters. Immersed in the Chañaral de Aceituno cove, children and beings who live there submerge us in water’s typical frequency and dynamics, a gait that doesn’t walk and whose progress spreads in freed.