Lucía Gaviglio

In 1993, spectators at the last screening of a horror film at a downtown cinema fall one by one into the hands of a sadistic and ruthless killer.

The life and death of the tropical singer Gilda.

Christian is a raising star in world football. He lives isolated, in a luxurious and lonely environment, besieged by fans, under pressure from the media and forced to honour commitments made by his father who acts as his manager. For the first time Christian feels the need to escape.

Everybody has a mother. But still, motherhood remains a state filled with silences. Between society’s mandate to be a ‘good mother’ —always patient, caring and happy— and the private reality of mothers around the world, a huge void in understanding remains. Aiming to break this silence through candid interviews with mothers of all backgrounds and generations in Latin America, Malamadre narrates the untold story of motherhood, from the mothers’ point of view.

In an early September morning in Maastricht, the Netherlands, one of the neurologists entered the emergency room to report that Lucía had suffered several strokes. For fifteen days of excruciating headaches and vomiting, she was neglected by a deficient healthcare system that kept sending her home with doses of acetaminophen, until one morning Lucía stopped recognizing her surroundings. The left side of her body, as well as her vision, stopped functioning. Miraculously, she managed to survive. After several back-and-forth visits, she received a one-in-a-million diagnosis: Reversible Cerebral Vasoconstriction Syndrome.