»I search for a narrative that evokes strong feelings by telling only a few things, by showing just the tip of unseen matters, suggesting that they‘re very deep. I’m interested in films that go beyond a story, those that leave a scent behind, a particular and long-lasting taste.«
– Anna Cristina Barragán

Alba, eleven years old, passes her days in silence. She is shy and embarrassed about recent developments in her body. Also, she stands little chance against the self-aware, early-adolescent rich girls who tease her at school. She has learnt to cope, however, with her mother’s serious illness. She helps her in the bathroom and plays silently when she takes her afternoon sleep. When her mother’s condition deteriorates and she is admitted to hospital, Alba is sent to live with her father. They last saw each other when Alba was only three. A slow and delicate rapprochement begins. While Alba comes to terms with the rougher side of her femininity – underarm hair and the first menstrual blood – Barragán finds beauty in her protagonist’s awkward body and shame. Small details and the use of physical space in this coming-of-age story are as important here as the few words spoken, a technique which reflects admiration for Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne and Lucrecia Martel. This debut feature film, one of the few works from the cinematically underrepresented Ecuador, is a delicate exploration of intimacy and the hesitant acceptance of a father- daughter relationship.

Awards for Alba
Lions Film Award – International Film Festival Rotterdam 2016