Ke arteko egunak

19-year-old Floreal is suddenly forced to face a past he tried very hard to overcome. A past that involves his eccentric grandmother Amanqay and a power stone she left behind.

Nora is 30 years old; she lives with her Argentinian grandfather Nicolás and regularly takes care of her friend Meri's children. She writes the horoscope for the town newspaper, although her dream is to be a travel writer. When her grandfather dies, she inherits an old Dyane 6. Despite being a terrible driver, Nora will set out aimlessly on a road trip along the Basque coast so that her grandfather's ashes may finally rest beside those of her grandmother. The road will soon teach her that she's not a born traveller and that her dream had nothing to do with roving, but was only an excuse for the chance to be free, to grow, to close wounds and, for the first time, to find her own happiness.

Itziar is eight years old and lives in two very different worlds. On the one hand, the world of her disappointed Basque nationalist parents and, on the other, the religious school, which gives the girl a repressive and retrograde education. However, there is another kind of world, much nicer to Itziar, formed by the street and her friends.

Irene, a former member of the terrorist gang ETA recently released from prison in Catalonia, recalls her past during her return trip to the Basque Country.

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.

Arián, a young Basque girl, idealistic but naive, joins a ruthless terrorist gang and, hoping to prove her commitment, volunteers to participate in the kidnapping of the daughter of an important businessman.

David Imaz had to flee from the Basque Country in the mid-seventies, repudiated by his people, accused of betrayal. Despite having found happiness in California, his past still weighs him down and the feeling of guilt prevents him from being able to settle down and peacefully enjoy the last days of his life. Joseba Altuna, his childhood friend, comes to say goodbye and to settle the score while he's at it. It's been a long time since they saw one another, but the time has come to face the truth.

Having fought in the First Carlist War, Martin returns to his family farm in Gipuzkoa only to find that his younger brother, Joaquín, towers over him in height. Convinced that everyone will want to pay to see the tallest man on Earth, the siblings set out on a long trip all over Europe, during which ambition, money and fame will forever change the family’s fate. A story based on true events.

In the mountains of the Basque Country, a mother and her daughter take shelter in a ruined hut that seems uninhabited.

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?