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The personal stories lived by the Uncle, the Father and the Son, respectively, draw a line through the collective Basque imaginary. That line is shaped like a scar.
The personal stories lived by the Uncle, the Father and the Son, respectively, form a tragic experience that is drawn along a line in time. This line is comparable to a crease in the pages of the family album, but also to a crack in the walls of the paternal house. It resembles the open wound created when drilling into a mountain, but also a scar in the collective imaginary of a society, where the idea of salvation finds its tragic destiny in the political struggle. What is at the end of that line? Will old war songs be enough to circumvent that destiny?

Life in a Day

Fuck

Heart of a Dog

Cuba and the Cameraman

As I Was Moving Ahead, Occasionally I Saw Brief Glimpses of Beauty

Bitter Lake

For Sama

Deliver Us from Evil

The Class of ‘92

Burma VJ: Reporting from a Closed Country

Evil Influencer: The Jodi Hildebrandt Story

Night Will Fall

Nell

The Elephant Man

Pyotr Martynovich And The Years Of Great Life

Golden Door

BadPuss: A Popumentary

The Perfect Storm

James Dean

Sophie Scholl: The Final Days

The Silence After

Better Man

Valkyrie

Capturing the Friedmans