Carles Bover Martínez

Homo Plastic is a journey into the heart of the Plastic Age. From the icy waters of Antarctica to the most remote tropical shores, no place is free from pollution. This documentary explores how an invention that transformed the way we live has ultimately altered life itself. Plastic doesn't just float in the oceans—it has infiltrated our bodies, our landscapes, and our history. With both scientific precision and emotional depth, the film maps out a global crisis we can no longer ignore. A portrait as haunting as it is beautiful, reflecting the price of progress... but also the possibility of rewriting our legacy.

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.

After the latest Israeli aggression on the Gaza Strip, once the bombings cease, the reality of the conflict disappears from the media. The documentary is a trip to Gaza, where through various characters we know the violation of human rights they suffer daily and the post-war blockade and situation that the Palestinian population is trying to survive in the Gaza Strip. A journey through their cities, their people and also, somehow, their history under the occupation of Israel.

A documentary about the weight of filming pain, the guilt of those who observe it, and the responsibility of showing it. Based on a shoot in Gaza ten years ago, the director revisits discarded images, direct looks at the camera, and uncomfortable moments that question his profession, his vocation, and the transformative power of images in a world insensitive to their overexposure. That gaze continues to resonate years later, amid helplessness, memory, and denunciation.