Nere Falagan Martin

When her father and uncles die, Jone (Josemi's daughter) decides to make a documentary about the Ibarretxe Brothers. Pioneers in the Basque audiovisual sector, creative, cheeky and always up to something, they were devoted to cinema made in Euskadi long before it was a reality. Analysing their films and talking to people who accompanied them (Stephen Fry, Echanove, Ramon Barea, Santiago Segura, José Luis Rebordinos), Jone gradually comes to realise that their cinema is nothing more than a faithful reflection of their own selves.

Amid laughter and companionship, a group of gypsy women improvise sequences in a room at the Otxarkoaga Civic Centre. The soft morning light filters through the purple curtains, while one of them dissects a film about a group of gypsy women at a performance workshop. Reality and fiction merge. Playfulness, fun, empowerment and sisterhood all combine in this documentary, intended as a love letter to the gypsy women of the Basque Country. A bridge, a joyful song and hands clapping in the wind, reminding us that stories (even if improvised and invented) are what we need to bring different people together.

Is the seed of happiness planted during childhood? The early years of our lives, the ones we no longer remember, leave a deep imprint on us. But is that imprint permanent? Or does it perhaps evolve? This is the voyage to that place forgotten by the memory, a journey from the mother I have become today to the baby I once was.

Julen approaches Jose, one of the last shepherds of the mountain Gorbea, wanting to portray a way of life that ends. In the time that both spend together the doors to the past open to observe what has remained behind.