A singer frozen in old black and white photos. Forever young. Encapsulated. Trapped in the frame, just like her voice on her vinyl records. Forgetting that the point of view is chosen. Forgetting that, in addition to being a singer, Lurdes Iriondo is also an essential reference in the transmission of Basque culture. She understood that children were the key, and she worked for them.

A documentary about Basque inmigrants who went to USA looking for work and a better future. Basically, Amerikanuak talks about feeling homesick, about struggling in a different country to make a decent living and about being part of a comunity.

A documentary view of the Basque ball-game in which a small hard leather ball is hit against a wall. The film gives an impression of the game itself and of those who play it, not only the star performers (and the myths that surround them), but also those who just play in the streets and alleyways. The film sees the game it its cultural context and conveys the emotions and stories that are peculiar to the Basque country.

The discovery of a series of unreleased tapes leads Juan Carlos Pérez, leader of the iconic group Itoiz, to reflect on the dissolution of the band at its peak, after a clear change of style towards pop that he still denies today. Juan Carlos will thus begin a cathartic journey to the essence of the group, reliving the beginnings of the band as a progressive rock group in Mutriku in the 70's, which will serve him to reconcile with the past.

Departing from peripheral details of some paintings of the Bilbao Fine Arts Museum, a female narrator unravels several stories related to the economic, social and psychological conditions of past and current artists.

Emília Pedro e Fernanda Jorge revisit childhood memories to identify over 70 land parcels inherited from their father. As physical traces fade, memory and oral tradition become the only way to 'see' what is no longer visible.

An analysis of the controversy over the participation of women in the Irun and Hondarribia festivity known as Alarde. It is divided into three parts: in the first part, the history, structure, and characteristics of the Alarde are explained; in the second part, the beginning of the conflict and its development in the 1990s; and in the third part, the present situation, reflecting on the present and future of the festival.

The documentary proposes a unique meeting with the speakers of several indigenous and inuit languages of Quebec – all threatened with extinction. The film starts with the discovery of these unsung tongues through listening to the daily life of those who still speak them today. Buttressed by an exploration and creation of archives, the film allows us to better understand the musicality of these languages and reveals the cultural and human importance of these venerable oral traditions by nourishing a collective reflection on the consequences of their disappearance.

Donostia-San Sebastián, Basque Country, Spain, 2011. Maider, a filmmaker, moves to the very same flat where pedadogist Elbira Zipitria Irastorza (1906-1982) clandestinely established the first ikastola, a Basque school, under the harsh regime of dictator Francisco Franco. Despite of her pioneering work, developed throughout thirty years, her story is not well known, so Maider, intrigued, begins to research…

The massacre occurred 500 years ago. In 1525, the Spanish Royal Council ordered the execution of five members of a cult recently discovered in the Pyrenees. This event marked the beginning of a relentless, century-long prosecution against Basque witchcraft, which exhibited all the hallmarks of the great European witch hunts, including an unstable border between powerful nations, revolts against the lords, raging misogyny, confessions obtained under torture, and mass accusations. These past five centuries, only one account has been heard: that of the inquisitors and jurists, the same ones who invented the myth of flying witches who met with the devil at sabbats to plot their crimes.

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?

In the Bella Coola Valley, a haunting legend endures through generations as a filmmaker reckons with whether the stories of her ancestors can survive being held or if they were never meant to be captured.