Letters to My Dead Parents

Just like in 1985, today Ignacio Agüero is back interrupting filmmakers during shooting, but not to ask what he did thirty years ago, but to find out what is purely cinematographic in what they film. These conversations are related to images in the director's personal archive, as if what is truly cinematographic was found among bits that were never made for the screen.

A film about the fearless photographers and photojournalists who documented strikes, demonstrations, protests etc during the Chilean military regime of Augusto Pinochet, sometimes risking their very lives.

Tells the story of a group of Chilean children who discover a larger reality and a different world through the cinema. Each Saturday, Alicia Vega transforms the chapel of Lo Hermida into a film screening room as she conducts a workshop for children under the auspices of the Catholic church. The hundred or so children involved had never seen a movie, and in the workshop they see and learn about the cinema: photograms and moving images, projection, camera angles and movement, film genres, and much more. And they watch movies: Chaplin, Disney, Lamorisse's 'The Red Balloon,' the Lumieres' 'The Arrival of the Train to the Station.' Finally, each child designs his own film with drawings. And then, for the first time in most of their lives, the children got to the movies in downtown Santiago.

In a bar in Santiago, two old men talk over their past. This is a strange discussion. In fact, they talk of themselves as if they were dead. We don't know what is true or false, what is dream or reality.

Exposé of the CIA-financed efforts of the Edwards family of Chile to cover up the human rights abuses of the Pinochet dictatorship through its newspaper 'El Mercurio'.

Agüero is able to look at the scene in all it's complexity around architectonical brutality that Santiago de Chile underwent around the year 2000.

Anthology film composed of six standalone shorts.

Looking for extras and locations, a filmmaker settles on Chiloé, the second largest island off the coast of Chile. He does auditions, but mainly listens patiently to the stories of young and old people. As an outsider, he cautiously searches for the soul of the community and its underlying tensions.

An experimental four-part 2002 Franco-Chilean digital video series written and directed by Raúl Ruiz. The first part won a FIPRESCI Award at the Montreal World Film Festival in 2002 "for the director's personal exploration into his homeland, using DV in a rigorous yet playful manner".

A key document of the dictatorship years, and a pinnacle moment in Chilean cinema. Filmed covertly during the dictatorship, No Olvidar chronicles a terrible episode in Chile’s history: the kidnapping and murder of five men whose bodies were only found after five years of searching.

This was a man. He lived with his mother. He cared a manor house in the countryside of Chile. One day the man found a bone in the garden. The bone was bored. That was a bone flute. The man with the flute music play. And music song became. The voice of the song begging to seek the other bones of his scattered body. The man and his mother were in those ways of God and hell, looking for the bones that make up the skeleton of that Christian. And give him a Christian burial. And they saw what they saw, they lived what they lived. Many stories lived. And although they did not tell anyone, others told them.

Belgian civil engineer Gustave Verniory still had a lot to learn when in 1889 he was hired to construct a railroad across the unspoiled natural landscape of Araucanía, a region that had recently become part of Chile. The tumultuous past and the ever-changing landscape are a constant background presence in Notes for a Film.

The house of the director has a door out to the sidewalk. This gate separates the inside from the outside. The interior contains the filmmaker's personal story and his world of objects, thoughts and imaginations. Outer space contains the city of Santiago de Chile. The stories of the world inside the house are interrupted when the doorbell rings unknown and thus come into the film.

In the late 1980s, a politically neutral photographer in Pinochet's Chile is still struggling to come to terms with the "disappearance" of his activist brother in the Villa Grimaldi torture centre back in 1975.

An ode to Chilean maritime myth and storytelling. Sailors onboard the Lucerna tell stories, but before long their stories intersect.

Two women who have spent their whole lives together must deal with the illness affecting one of them. The sick woman decides not to have treatment and they move into a cabin in the woods to wait for the day that death will come into their lives. The situation sees the resurfacing of the love that time had buried under the routine. Gradually their relationship will strengthen as death bides its time outside the cabin.