A frenetic gaze sweeps over a convulsed Mexico City, a colossal metropolis sustained by the myth of multiracialism and other colonial forms of violence. Past and present intertwine in a flurry of images—fragmented memories of this land. Ancient deities are incarnated, while dreams overlap with intimacy, complicity, and tumult. This is an erratic film that invites us to reimagine our complex relationship with “Mexicanness.”
| Director | Annalisa D. Quagliata Blanco |
| Actor | Jean-Jacques Martinod |
| Share on |
Ancestral maps
And subway routes
So many lines and signs
Which, like Tezcatlipoca,
A smoking mirror,
Trace the intersections between future and past
As soon as the ink dries,
We sink in,
The light fades away like an echo,
And dreams are absorbed into the night
Suddenly, a birth
A radio alarm clock tunes in the color
Then, blood falls
And the sun rises again
All of a sudden, a common march
The movement is circular
Los Cogelones invites us there
Today, like yesterday
The strings distort
The huéhuetl resonate
And the tlapitzalli whistle
Matthew Wolkow
Filmmaker and curious by profession

Ancestral maps
And subway routes
So many lines and signs
Which, like Tezcatlipoca,
A smoking mirror,
Trace the intersections between future and past
As soon as the ink dries,
We sink in,
The light fades away like an echo,
And dreams are absorbed into the night
Suddenly, a birth
A radio alarm clock tunes in the color
Then, blood falls
And the sun rises again
All of a sudden, a common march
The movement is circular
Los Cogelones invites us there
Today, like yesterday
The strings distort
The huéhuetl resonate
And the tlapitzalli whistle
Matthew Wolkow
Filmmaker and curious by profession
English