In Memoriam

Chorrojumo’s body in ruins has been wandering silently through the streets of Granada for one hundred and eighty-three years. Under the scorching sun, he waits, with his hand raised, for some currency. The infinite limbo in which he lives is interrupted with the arrival of a young Moroccan who brings an ancient key in his hands. Together they begin a search through the Ruins, spaces that have disappeared or are in transition, of present-day Granada, in search of the house of the young man’s ancestors; the last expelled Moriscos, of whom he still retains memories.

Tourists eating and taking photos. Tourists strolling and taking photos. Tourists bathing on the beach and taking more photos. Barcelona has become an overexploited photocall to the point of paroxysm, and this is what this film shows by turning the camera and pointing towards the visitors. A small gesture that, added to a powerful sound contrast and a caustic sense of humour, exposes without subterfuge a grotesque normality.

A clinical gaze inspects a liminal place beyond space and time, where living and dead bodies coexist. As they resist collapse, the unidentified shapes remain suspended in darkness.