A satirical comedy that pokes fun at Spanish social and political stereotypes, featuring parodies of real events and special guest appearances from the political sphere.
7th century Arabia. A time of feuding tribes vying for power and supremacy. Courageous Princess Hind (Aiysha Hart) refuses to serve as concubine to the merciless Sassanid Emperor Kisra (Sir Ben Kingsley). Escaping with her father King Numan into the vast and unforgiving desert, Hind is pursued by Kisra’s mercenary and his bloodthirsty troops. Father and daughter are forced to trust a mysterious bandit (Anthony Mackie). Against all odds, Hind unites the fractious tribes against the powerful invading military of the Sassanid Empire. In an epic showdown, the Battle of Ze Qar will forever change the Arabian Peninsula and echo throughout history.
Fleeing from their violent father, siblings Lucía and Adrián take refuge in a remote mansion. With the help of a hidden micro-camera on a cat, Lucía uncovers a terrifying secret: their neighbors are part of a criminal network that kidnaps teenage girls to make snuff films, and they intend to get rid of the siblings. As Lucía fights to protect her brother, she must face a dark family curse that follows them into their newfound sanctuary.
In 2013, an Australian man a few months shy of turning 60 decided to walk the Camino de Santiago – an 800km pilgrimage trail across the top of Spain. He had no known religion, and absolutely no idea why he felt so deeply compelled to do this torturous walk. But compelled, he was. He completed the walk, battling a “triumvirate of pain” - a knee that he later discovered lacked an...
Calvin Trask lives in a dead end Arctic town on the fringes of society, until mysterious stranger Lucas Wade arrives, turning his solitary life upside down. Calvin's curiosity gets the better of him and is quickly pulled into Lucas' dangerous world. As secrets slowly unravel, Calvin realises just what kind of jeopardy he's put himself in, a place where murder and betrayal are a...
In 2013, an Australian man a few months shy of turning 60 decided to walk the Camino de Santiago – an 800km pilgrimage trail across the top of Spain. He had no known religion, and absolutely no idea why he felt so deeply compelled to do this torturous walk.
But compelled, he was.
He completed the walk, battling a “triumvirate of pain” - a knee that he later discovered lacked any meaningful cartilage, a blister the sight of which would make a grown man weep, and shin-soreness that felt like his lower limb had been split with a mountain axe wielded by a demented troll.
Arriving at the end of the Camino, the majestic cathedral in Santiago de Compostela, he expected an epiphany – an answer to the question he’d been asking himself every day: Why am I doing this?
But no answer came.
So when he got home he wrote a book, hoping the answer would reveal itself in his scribblings. The result was The Way, My Way, a humourous and self-deprecating book that many consider the best memoir ever written on walking the Camino.
The book has now been made into a film, and it’s an extraordinary account of a man at a pivotal point in his life, searching for meaning and finding himself undergoing a fundamental transformation so profound that he now divides his life into “Before the Camino” and “After the Camino.”
It’s a story particular to one man, yet of appeal to anyone seeking a greater meaning from life.
When, at the beginning of Deus Irae, Father Javier stares at a crucifix, his expressions and his hands suggest that the nerves are consuming him. A flashback reveals that this priest devotes his life to visiting families that claim to have seen things that do not belong to this world and cleansing their homes from the demons that try to possess them. But, upon returning to those houses, he notices that the evidence is always destroyed. This way, he discovers that a clan is after him, and must decide whether to hide from them or join them. In times when horror cinema tends to fall into the hands of directors that seek to build narratives that are introspective and close to reality, Pedro Cristiani goes back to old-school horror, where gore and the physical experience are above any other kind of feeling. A cinema that places the camera in front of the faces of the bloodiest demons and, instead of giving logic to them, chooses to face them whatever the cost.
