Carlos Pardo Ros

Based on the negatives of the 33 'La Tauromaquia' engravings made by Goya in 1816, the director invites us to witness the transformation of bodies at the approach of death.

A weary radio host encased in her headphones, Gal·la, plays Chopin’s Concerto No. 2 in F minor, interrupted by a child in a karate uniform. After the studio she reads a story to help him sleep, though no one quite manages. Encountering a stranger, the three begin a new broadcast that beams from their room. Sound is the main preoccupation of La nostra habitació, it encloses, intrudes, draws together and sets free.

During the San Fermín celebrations in Pamplona in 1969, a man died when the bulls were let loose. There was nothing to identify him, except for the letter “H” on his keyring. Carlos Pardo Ros imagines this man’s last night: a drunken nocturnal stroll with the ghosts of H, at one of the world’s biggest folk festivals.

It’s hot in a ramshackle attic, full-blown fans stir the atmosphere generated by the “exercises” of a weird tenant who manipulates objects. He twists cardboard, builds object castles, admires them, talks to them, breaks them, dresses and dances with them. The ceremonies are repeated and mutated, the environments change and the objects multiply creating a kind of dissonant choreography built with remnants of amateur video. The plot gets more complicated when between those objects his memories appear and force him to fight in a duel of dances with his past.

Coastal town of Benidorm, Spain, August 1956. Sylvia, a newly married US poet, goes for a walk.

In the future, Violeta and Guillermo recall a night, in 2018, when they danced until sunrise.