The Eternal Memory dir. Maite Alberdi (Grand Jury World Documentary Winner)

by The Birds' Nest

Morgan: Alberdi could not have chosen more engaging documentary subjects than Augusto and Paulina for The Eternal Memory. The film starts with an introduction to the couple and their careers as a reporter and an actress, respectively. Augusto has developed Alzheimer’s Disease, and the documentary follows the couple through the ups and downs of living as Augusto's condition progresses. Both are incredibly charming, and from the first moments, I found myself caring deeply about each of them.

The film making of this documentary was really impeccable. What makes this documentary stand out was its ability to tell the story without any guidance telling the audience what is happening. There was no use of narration, interviews, or titling…it was just edited in a way in which you could naturally understand the flow of Augusto and Paulina’s lives. And on top of that, so much of it was simply beautifully shot. There's a particular sequence where they are in a theater, and the stage has these stairs that play with the light, and something about the visual was inexplicably moving.

 

Watching their lives unfold was truly devastating, and while watching there were no dry eyes in the room. The tenderness of love is simply beautiful. Augusto and Paulina’s relationship was touching, and that is exactly what made it so devastating. Their love was strong and all-consuming, but it still doesn't soften the blow that Alzheimer's dealt. Seeing how time progresses and the love they still have for each other was profound, and it touched me in a way that is hard to articulate. Both time and love feel constant, but it many ways they are unpredictable. It all comes back to memory; what remains in the body to remind you of your life, pain, and love that have accrued since your time on Earth. Some memories, rooted deep in the body, are eternal. 

Zac: I came away from Maite Alberdi's latest on the verge of sobbing. In fact, a big group had gathered in the living room to watch it together, and by the end, we were all absolutely losing it, shooting each other flabbergasted looks and frantically trying to figure out how we were supposed to go on with our days after being so thoroughly shattered. 

The Eternal Memory is beautiful from top to bottom. There's so much here about art as preservation -- books, theater, and film especially. It's a story about two people who are unconditionally in love with each other and their struggle to overcome a condition forcibly placed upon that love that they can't control, but it's also a timeless and universal fable about how we lock ourselves away in the things we write and read and perform and consume, and how later on if we lose ourselves that's a good place to turn. We see this through Augusto's deep love for his collection of books ("to me, these books are me and my friends"), the solace Pauli finds in her theater performances, and Alberdi's metatexual use of archival footage both from the couple's own home videos and Augusto's career as a TV journalist.

It's a simple story, but it has a ton to say about love, life, memory, and art. Everything's beautifully balanced and it never gets in its own way. PLEASE seek this out as soon as you can, Alberdi is so talented and it would be so criminal if she ever stopped making docs.

Sienna: God, this movie is beautiful. It's so beautifully shot that it's hard to believe it's a documentary; while watching, we were comparing the cinematography to Hidetoshi Shinomiya's work on Drive My Car. That big group that Zac mentioned—of the five or six of us, only three had set out to watch it from the start. The rest had gravitated to it from different corners of the house and ended up captivated. 

The thing that makes it so, so poignant is the footage of Augusto Góngora's work as a reporter, preserving in history the atrocities of the Pinochet dictatorship. In the early days of their relationship, Augusto gifted Pauli a copy of his book, Chile, a Forbidden Memory. "Memory is forbidden, but this book is stubborn," he wrote to her in the front cover; in the film, once he is no longer able to read for himself, she reads it back to him. Góngora spent so much of his life concerned with memory, both personal and cultural; if he can't remember that fight anymore, I'm glad the world can through this film. Please, please seek this out when you can.