Emanuel Mechoulam

An American businessman with a stake in a pharmaceutical company that's about to go public finds his life is thrown into turmoil by an incident in Mexico.

Analogy of the fobia of existence and of the terror of the multifactorial value of life.

Eli invents a collection of glowing jars filled with values that, when combined with animated story catalysts, create the perfect formula for success. His 10-year-old apprentice, Pauli, assists him in sorting the jars. When Pauli’s cousin Tino arrives, upset after being scolded for not helping his friend win a contest, he becomes the ideal candidate to test the formula.

TRANSMUTIS, or how dreams break the silence: a fascinating document. The final days in the life of "El Rubber," the film's central character, who guides us through a tour of his delirious way of looking at things—a uniquely particular magnifying glass that deserves to be shared with the world. El Rubber takes us far away while keeping us close; El Rubber's final days are learning and myth, the myth of everyone placed through the eyes of a madman who questions his existence and reflects on a reality we all inhabit without knowing what it means or where it marches. TRANSMUTIS is the way dreams reflect in the celestial vault of our reality, the breach in the silence of souls, and a desperate cry to know the deep truth that underlies daily life and its oneiric present.

In a single, suffocating, uninterrupted three-minute shot, Clío immerses herself in an internal monologue that settles scores with the darkness. Facing her is Fancy: a woman who shines on the surface but manipulates from the shadows, acting as if pain didn't exist. However, Clío's true psychological horror doesn't lie in her patient's toxicity, but in the suspicion gnawing at her chest: what if she, from her position of power as a therapist, is just as manipulative? A minimalist cinematic exercise on the weight of seeing oneself reflected in the abyss of another.