Espiello 2025 #2: Memory, Cinema, and the Festival

Inhabiting Oblivion, Preserving Memory

For twenty-two years, Espiello has transformed the Sobrarbe region of the Spanish Pyrenees into a site of cinematic reflection, where ethnographic documentary serves as both a mirror and a bridge. This year’s edition, themed Memoria: Habitando el Olvido (Memory: Inhabiting Oblivion), invites audiences to engage with films that explore the fragility of cultural memory, the ways in which histories are preserved, erased, or reinterpreted, and how communities negotiate their pasts in the present.

Memory, as both a concept and a lived experience, is deeply tied to geography. The landscapes of the Pyrenees hold the echoes of oral traditions, historical migrations, and political struggles. At Espiello, these landscapes intertwine with cinematic narratives, reminding us that memory is not just about the past—it is an ongoing, dynamic process that informs identity, place, and belonging.

This year’s Espiello takes on new urgency as societies worldwide grapple with collective memory and the forces of historical amnesia. Whether through political upheaval, climate change, or urban transformation, communities are continuously renegotiating their relationship to the past. This year’s films serve as testimonies to that process, ensuring that voices, places, and traditions that might otherwise fade into obscurity remain present in the cultural consciousness.

As Sobrarbe welcomes filmmakers, anthropologists, and audiences once again, the festival’s imagined geography takes shape, offering a space where cultures connect through film, discussion, and shared experience.

 

The Imagined Geography of Espiello: A Festival as a Cultural Crossroads

Like previous editions, Espiello 2025 is more than a festival—it is a temporary village, a community built through storytelling. Over the course of ten days, Boltaña becomes a gathering point where the boundaries between local and global, past and present, dissolve. The festival functions as a living ethnographic space, where filmmakers from across the world bring their own landscapes and histories, mapping their experiences onto Sobrarbe’s mountainous terrain.

This ephemeral yet enduring sense of place is what makes Espiello unique. Unlike urban film festivals with sprawling venues and industry-driven programming, Espiello maintains an intimate, community-oriented atmosphere. The festival’s sections—Espiello Pirineos, Espiello d’Arredol, Anvistas, Falorias, and Cachimalla—reinforce a commitment to regional storytelling while connecting with global ethnographic cinema. In each screening and discussion, the festival becomes a meeting ground where different ways of knowing and remembering take center stage.

This year’s theme, Memory: Inhabiting Oblivion, deepens Espiello’s role as a site of historical reflection. What does it mean to inhabit oblivion? How do communities make sense of what has been forgotten or erased? These are not just questions for historians or anthropologists—they are questions for all of us, as individuals and as members of collective identities that are shaped by what we choose to remember.

 

Film Selections: Mapping Memory through Cinema

The official competition lineup features 16 carefully selected documentaries from nearly 500 submissions, each offering a perspective on memory’s role in shaping identity. These films span continents, cultures, and histories, but they are united in their exploration of how memory is woven into the fabric of everyday life.

Here are the selected films for Espiello 2025:

“Sau: la memòria submergida” (Sau: The Submerged Memory) – An exploration of the remnants of a flooded Catalan village, questioning what is lost and what remains when a place disappears.

“Minga en Tenaún” – A Chilean documentary about the minga tradition, in which entire communities come together to move houses across great distances, symbolizing the migration of both people and memories.

“El arte de los analfabetos” (The Art of the Illiterate) – A Spanish film examining oral storytelling traditions and the power of non-written histories in preserving cultural heritage.

“La jeune fille, les chouettes et les hommes lions” – A documentary from Chad that delves into indigenous folklore and its role in environmental knowledge.

“Las Voces del Olvido” (Voices of Oblivion) – A Mexican documentary featuring testimonies of elders whose oral histories challenge official narratives of national history.

“Echoes of the Steppe” – A Kazakh documentary exploring the impact of Soviet collectivization on nomadic communities and how their descendants reconstruct cultural memory.

“Griot Chronicles” – A West African documentary on how oral historians preserve and transmit community identity through music and storytelling.

“The Silence of the Land” – A French-Belgian collaboration investigating the displacement of rural populations due to urban expansion and its effects on generational memory.

“Tattooed Histories” – A Japanese documentary exploring the cultural significance of traditional tattoos as symbols of identity and resistance.

“El Camino del Maíz” (The Path of Corn) – A Guatemalan documentary on the role of corn in Indigenous worldviews and the threats posed by agricultural industrialization.

“Tierra de Nadie” (No Man’s Land) – A documentary from Palestine chronicling how changing borders impact personal and collective memory.

“The Water We Remember” – A Canadian documentary examining Indigenous water protectors and the spiritual connections to ancestral waters.

“Threads of Exile” – A Portuguese film following the stories of exiles from colonial Angola, connecting personal histories to larger political changes.

“La Memoria que Canta” (The Memory That Sings) – A Peruvian documentary about Andean musicians who preserve historical narratives through song.

“Forgotten Names” – A Polish documentary reconstructing family histories lost during World War II through recovered letters and documents.

“Daughters of the Desert” – An Iranian documentary profiling women poets who use literature as an act of defiance and remembrance.

“The Border’s Echo” – A US-Mexico documentary exploring the stories of migrants and how they carry their histories across shifting borders.

Each of these films presents a distinct vision of memory, whether through the landscapes that shape it, the voices that carry it, or the struggles to preserve it in the face of erasure.

The Siñal d’Onor Espiello will be awarded to the Asociación por la Recuperación de la Memoria Histórica de Aragón (ARMHA), recognizing their work in rescuing Spain’s forgotten histories. Meanwhile, Eugenio Monesma, a lifelong documentarian of Pyrenean traditions, receives the Siñal Mayestros, honoring his dedication to cultural preservation through film.

 

Beyond the Screen: Espiello as a Community-Engaged Festival

Espiello is not confined to the darkened theater. It extends into public discussions, artistic exhibitions, and educational workshops that turn the entire region into an immersive learning experience. Among the standout activities this year:

Theatrical Performance – “Olvido” by Biribú Teatro, a play that humorously unpacks the bureaucratic archiving of history, questioning what is remembered and what is left behind.

Exhibitions on Historical Memory curated by ARMHA, including Mujeres Republicanas. Un Sueño Frustrado (Republican Women: A Frustrated Dream) and Una Utopía Necesaria. La Educación en la II República (A Necessary Utopia: Education in the Second Republic).

Cine bajo las Estrellas (Cinema Under the Stars), where selected documentaries will be screened in small villages throughout Sobrarbe, reinforcing the festival’s rural and communal ethos.

Collaborations with the University of Madrid and Universitat Oberta de Catalunya, bringing students and scholars into direct dialogue with filmmakers.

The festival’s commitment to linguistic diversity is evident in the Espiello Agora x l’Aragonés section, celebrating films produced in Aragonese, a language that has fought against historical erasure. The screening of “Baitico, l’ombre-libro de la Valle Bielsa”, documenting one of the last native speakers of the Belsetán dialect, highlights the fragile yet resilient nature of cultural memory.

 

Espiello 2025 as a Living Archive

At its core, Espiello is an archive in motion—a living, breathing documentation of memory, identity, and place. In its twenty-second edition, the festival reaffirms its role as a custodian of intangible heritage, a space where cultures reflect on themselves and on each other through the lens of documentary filmmaking.

As audiences settle into the ochre and black seats of the Palacio de Congresos, the festival’s signature brass mortar sounds, signaling the beginning of another screening, another journey into memory. And for those who participate—filmmakers, scholars, and locals alike—Espiello is not just a festival. It is a communal act of remembering, a place where forgotten stories find voice, and where the past becomes an ever-present guide to the future.

Bienvenidos a Espiello 2025. Let the festival begin.

Espiello 2025 #1: Film, Place, and Cultural Geography

A Festival That Transforms Place

Each spring, in the heart of the Pyrenees, a film festival reshapes the small town of Boltaña into a space of cultural exchange. The Espiello International Ethnographic Documentary Festival is more than a showcase of films; it constructs an imagined geography—a village where filmmakers, scholars, and audiences engage in a shared exploration of human experience.

Since its inception in 2003, Espiello has positioned itself as a bridge between anthropology, filmmaking, and community storytelling. Its name, meaning “mirror” in Aragonés, reflects its function: a space where diverse cultures see themselves and others, engaging in a dialogue about representation, identity, and change. More than just an event, Espiello is an imagined place, a temporary village where cultural narratives are lived, exchanged, and remembered.

The transformation of Boltaña into Espiello reflects a broader pattern seen in temporary cultural geographies, where festivals momentarily reshape the meaning of a location. Just as other major festivals like Sundance or Sheffield DocFest generate alternative mappings of their urban and rural settings, Espiello reconfigures Sobrarbe as a center for cultural dialogue. Unlike large metropolitan festivals, however, Espiello’s impact lingers within a smaller, more intimate environment, where the community actively engages with the narratives it helps to host.

The Imagined Geography of Espiello

Place is more than location; it emerges from relationships, narratives, and lived experiences. Espiello exists beyond the stone walls of Boltaña, shaped by the collective imagination of those who take part. The festival organizers have crafted an imaginary village, mapping out symbolic roles and spaces that give Espiello an identity beyond the physical.

In this village, award-winning filmmakers become “mayors,” jurors serve as “council members,” and festival attendees actively shape the festival’s evolving story. The streets of this metaphorical town are named after past winning documentaries, and every edition of the festival becomes another layer in its growing history. Espiello is both real and symbolic, demonstrating how a cultural event transforms space into a meaningful, participatory geography.

The festival’s spatial dynamics resemble other forms of ephemeral place-making, where temporary events leave lasting impressions on landscapes. While major festivals create short-lived economic hubs, Espiello fosters a cultural memoryscape, a space where storytelling builds upon itself year after year. This approach positions the festival within the broader discussion of how cultural events generate a sense of belonging even in places where participants have no permanent ties.

 

Ethnographic Film as a Medium of Place-Making

Ethnographic documentaries do more than record cultures; they construct interpretations of place, identity, and belonging. The films shown at Espiello offer windows into the lived experiences of people across diverse landscapes, revealing more than their daily lives but the broader cultural, economic, and historical forces that shape them.

Through self-representation, Espiello challenges traditional ethnographic paradigms that have historically relied on outsider perspectives. Instead, the festival prioritizes films where communities tell their own stories, shifting the balance of representation and reinforcing the idea that place is not something to be observed from a distance but experienced and articulated from within.

This approach is significant in a world where cultural narratives are often shaped by dominant media industries. Espiello amplifies voices that might otherwise be overlooked, highlighting rural, Indigenous, and marginalized communities whose stories challenge mainstream assumptions about identity and change. The festival’s commitment to reflexivity ensures that ethnographic film remains a dialogue rather than a static representation, allowing both filmmakers and audiences to critically engage with questions of cultural authenticity and agency.

The role of ethnographic film in mapping cultural landscapes is crucial. The camera functions as an instrument of place-making, capturing and framing realities that are sometimes invisible to those outside of them. Many films presented at Espiello contribute to a collective visual archive, documenting how places evolve, how communities struggle and survive, and how identity is negotiated within changing environments.

 

The Local Impact of Film Festivals: Sobrarbe as a Case Study

Espiello is deeply rooted in the local geography of Sobrarbe. Film festivals, particularly those with an ethnographic focus, have the power to redefine the cultural and economic landscapes of the places that host them. For Sobrarbe, Espiello is more than an annual event—it is a catalyst for cultural engagement, education, and economic sustainability.

Unlike major urban festivals, Espiello brings high-caliber documentary filmmaking to a rural community, demonstrating that cultural events need not be confined to metropolitan centers. It offers an alternative model where film serves as a tool for rural development, bringing tourism, academic engagement, and local pride to an area that has historically been on the margins of Spain’s cinematic and cultural circuits.

Moreover, by integrating educational initiatives, community discussions, and exhibitions, Espiello extends its impact beyond the festival itself. Schools, local organizations, and residents become part of the dialogue, engaging with the themes and films presented. In doing so, the festival strengthens local identity while connecting Sobrarbe to broader conversations about ethnography, representation, and storytelling.

The festival’s impact extends to how Sobrarbe is perceived externally. Just as ethnographic documentaries help frame the cultural identity of distant places, Espiello shapes how the Pyrenean region is understood by audiences far beyond Spain. By curating films that explore not only Sobrarbe’s cultural landscape but also those of similar rural communities across the world, the festival contributes to a re-mapping of place in global cultural networks.

 

Espiello as an Evolving Cultural Geography

Espiello demonstrates that film festivals shape cultural landscapes, serving as spaces of exchange where identities are formed, histories are preserved, and new ways of belonging emerge. By constructing an imagined geography where filmmakers, audiences, and local communities intersect, Espiello expands the meaning of place itself.

It is more than a showcase of ethnographic documentaries; it is an active site where place is made through storytelling, shared experiences, and the ongoing dialogue between tradition and transformation. Espiello reminds us that cinema is not only about representation but about participation—about creating spaces where cultures are not merely observed but actively lived and understood.

For those who attend, Espiello is more than a festival in Sobrarbe. It is a village, a community, an experience—one that continues to grow, adapt, and reflect the world it seeks to illuminate. The imagined geography it creates does not vanish once the festival ends. It lingers in the minds of participants, in the continued dialogue between filmmakers and audiences, and in the evolving identity of the region itself.

The festival offers a model for how temporary cultural spaces leave lasting imprints, shaping the landscapes they inhabit and the communities that participate in them. Espiello, in its ephemeral yet enduring nature, is a testament to the power of film in shaping not only how we see the world—but how we belong to it.

The Americans: Mapping the Cold War Within

The Americans (2013–2018) delves into the quiet, unnerving duality of espionage during the Cold War—not in grand, sweeping battles of ideology, but in the most intimate spaces of identity, family, and loyalty. At its core, The Americans asks what it means to live between worlds and examines the invisible lines we draw within ourselves and between those we love. I would argue that while the show’s premise revolves around espionage, its real territory is psychological, exploring the inner landscapes of duty, deception, and identity formation.

Identity as Terrain: Navigating the Self in Two Worlds

The most powerful exploration in The Americans is that of identity as a shifting, unstable terrain. Philip and Elizabeth Jennings are tasked with an impossible balancing act: they must fully inhabit an American identity to avoid detection, while maintaining loyalty to a Soviet self that is constantly tested and redefined. Over time, this split existence erodes the clear boundaries of who they are, not only to others but to themselves. The resulting tension is profound: The Americans is less a series about spying and more a meditation on identity as contested ground.

Elizabeth and Philip’s transformation over time speaks to the concept of performative identity—the idea that identity is not fixed but is constantly constructed through our interactions and performances in the world. For Philip, the act of being American gradually ceases to be a mere role and starts to reshape his sense of self, making him question the beliefs he’s fought to uphold. Elizabeth, on the other hand, resists this transformation, seeing American life as an artifice, a performance necessary only for her mission.

For viewers, this raises complex questions: Can we sustain an identity built on deception? And how much of ourselves are we willing to sacrifice for loyalty to something greater? Philip’s quiet struggle with these questions plays out in subtle but deeply impactful ways, reminding us that identity is not only a matter of birth or nationality but something that is shaped and reshaped with each choice, each action, and each compromise.

The Family as Cartography of Conflict

What makes The Americans exceptional is its exploration of family as a landscape of ideological conflict. For the Jennings, family life is a delicate balancing act of authenticity and deceit. Every interaction with their children Paige and Henry becomes a navigational challenge, forcing Philip and Elizabeth to conceal not only their missions but their very selves. This concealment turns family life into a territory fraught with unspoken loyalties and dangerous half-truths, where love and duty constantly clash.

As Paige grows older, she begins to intuit the fissures within her family and the inconsistencies between her parents’ actions and their words. This shift in the family dynamic forces Philip and Elizabeth to confront the consequences of their double lives: What does it mean to raise children in a home built on secrets? And can a family truly be a safe space when it’s embedded in deception?

Paige’s gradual awareness of her parents’ true identities introduces a further complexity. She becomes a kind of cultural intermediary, pulled between the American values she has internalized and the Soviet ideology her parents try to instill. Her journey of discovery not only destabilizes the family but also becomes a map of conflicted generational and ideological loyalty. In this way, the family is more than a unit of love and security; it becomes a terrain where identities collide, boundaries are drawn and redrawn, and conflicting loyalties shape each member in unpredictable ways.

Intimate Geographies of Loyalty and Deception

Loyalty in The Americans operates not in sweeping patriotic gestures but in the daily, quiet decisions to stay committed to a cause, a country, or a person. Philip and Elizabeth’s work forces them to become cartographers of intimacy, mapping out which parts of themselves they can safely reveal and which must be hidden, even from each other. Their marriage, initially a practical arrangement, becomes an intricate choreography of loyalty and betrayal, where both intimacy and secrecy are forms of survival.

Their interactions with others—friends, lovers, neighbors—further blur the lines between the personal and the ideological. Stan Beeman, their FBI agent neighbor, becomes both friend and potential threat, illustrating the fragile borders of loyalty and deception that define their world. With each passing season, the Jennings’ loyalty to their Soviet mission is continually tested not by external forces but by the quiet, powerful pull of personal connections they form on American soil.

This exploration of loyalty as a geography of the self highlights the idea that commitment to a cause is not simply about allegiance to a nation but a process of self-definition. For Elizabeth, loyalty is ironclad—a sense of duty embedded so deeply in her that it becomes the bedrock of her identity. Philip, however, feels the instability of that ground. As his connections deepen within American society, his loyalty to the Soviet mission falters, underscoring how loyalty is not a fixed point on a map but a shifting landscape, shaped by relationships, emotions, and the erosion of ideological clarity.

Emotional Surveillance and the Weight of Invisibility

Surveillance in The Americans is not just about watching and being watched; it’s about living with the constant weight of invisibility and the existential loneliness that comes with it. Philip and Elizabeth live under intense pressure to conceal their true identities, and this invisibility takes a toll. In some ways, they are always in hiding—not just from others but from themselves. This existential surveillance shapes every aspect of their lives, creating an unspoken understanding that at any moment, a misstep could unravel everything.

But this surveillance is not limited to their roles as spies; it permeates their family life, where the “normalcy” they must project to their children is yet another form of concealment. Philip’s growing fatigue and disillusionment reflect the toll of constantly surveilling his own behavior, thoughts, and even emotions. For Elizabeth, this internal surveillance becomes an almost militant form of self-control, a refusal to let sentimentality or vulnerability penetrate her resolve.

In this way, The Americans explores surveillance as an inner geography of confinement, showing how people can become both the watchers and the watched in their own lives. The Jennings’ experience reveals how ideological commitment can restrict the self, forcing them to police their own emotions and thoughts in ways that slowly but surely erode their identities. It’s a stark reminder of the human cost of ideological warfare, where the mind becomes the battleground and the self is both weapon and casualty.

Conclusion: The Inner Cartographies of Espionage and Identity

The Americans is, at its heart, an exploration of the landscapes we create within ourselves. While espionage may be the series’ surface appeal, the true intrigue lies in the Jennings’ navigation of identity, loyalty, and love within a web of lies. The show reveals that the most profound conflicts are not played out on national stages or battlefields but in the spaces of personal connection, where every choice is a line drawn between who we are and who we must pretend to be.

Philip and Elizabeth’s journey reveals that living between two identities is not just a logistical challenge; it is an emotional and psychological geography, a place where self-deception, love, and duty overlap in ways that are often painful and profound. In this way, The Americans asks its audience to consider the borders we draw in our own lives—the invisible lines of loyalty, the boundaries between public and private selves, and the spaces within us that we reserve for those we love, even when love and loyalty seem impossible to reconcile.

Through these intimate, psychological landscapes, The Americans turns espionage into a human story, a map of inner conflicts, shifting loyalties, and the quiet resilience it takes to live a double life. For cultural geographers, the series is a reminder that sometimes, the most complex terrains are not those of cities or nations but the inner landscapes of identity, where loyalties clash, selves are made and remade, and the cost of belonging is never truly paid.

GIEI Film Review: As Bestas (2022)

Rodrigo Sorogoyen’s As Bestas (2022) is an atmospheric and tense exploration of isolation, belonging, and conflict, set against the rugged backdrop of rural Galicia, Spain. The film follows Antoine and Olga, a French couple who move to a depopulated village to pursue their dream of organic farming. However, their presence soon ignites deep-seated tensions with the local farmers, Xan and Lorenzo, leading to a dangerous confrontation. Through its masterful use of geography, language, and the theme of depopulation, As Bestas paints a complex portrait of a community grappling with its shrinking future and the arrival of outsiders.

 

Geographical Context: Rural Galicia as a Character

The rugged, remote landscapes of Galicia are not just a backdrop in As Bestas—they actively shape the film’s narrative. The film is set in a village that feels isolated, abandoned, and deeply connected to its physical environment. The mountains, dense forests, and winding roads create a sense of enclosure, intensifying the psychological tension between the characters.

The geography of the region mirrors the emotional and cultural isolation felt by the characters, particularly the locals who see their world shrinking due to depopulation. The land in Galicia has historically been tied to identity and survival, and in As Bestas, it becomes a battleground for control, belonging, and the future.

Depopulation: A Dying Way of Life

Depopulation is a central theme that defines the village’s sense of fragility and desperation. Like many rural regions in Spain, Galicia has experienced a significant loss of population, with younger generations leaving for cities and more prosperous regions. This exodus leaves behind older residents struggling to maintain their way of life. In As Bestas, this reality permeates the interactions between the characters, particularly the tension between the local farmers and the French couple.

The villagers’ attachment to the land is not merely economic; it is deeply emotional and cultural. For Xan and Lorenzo, the shrinking population represents the gradual erosion of their identity and their community’s way of life. The potential wind turbine project—one of the few economic opportunities available—becomes a symbol of this desperation. The local farmers view it as a lifeline, while Antoine, with his idealistic vision of sustainable farming, opposes it, seeing it as exploitation. This clash is more than a disagreement over land use; it is a reflection of the larger struggle to hold on to a disappearing world in the face of modern pressures.

The village’s dwindling population also amplifies the tension between locals and outsiders. In a community where each resident plays a vital role, the arrival of newcomers like Antoine and Olga is seen as a potential threat to the already fragile balance. The economic pressures brought on by depopulation create an atmosphere of territoriality and suspicion, as the remaining villagers become fiercely protective of their land and way of life.

Language: A Barrier and a Tool of Conflict

In As Bestas, the multilingualism of the characters—Spanish, Galician, and French—plays a significant role in shaping the film’s narrative and tension. Language acts as both a bridge and a barrier between the French couple and the local villagers. Antoine and Olga’s reliance on Spanish to communicate, while functional, marks them as outsiders in a community where Galician is the dominant language. Galician, more than just a language, is a marker of local identity and cultural continuity, and its use among the locals reinforces the couple’s sense of otherness.

The linguistic divide becomes even more pronounced in moments of conflict. Xan and Lorenzo often speak in Galician, particularly when tensions rise, as a way to assert their dominance and control over the conversation. For Antoine and Olga, this creates a sense of vulnerability, as they are unable to fully grasp the nuances and subtexts of the local language. Even though Antoine speaks Spanish, his accent and occasional struggles with fluency reinforce the divide between him and the locals, adding another layer of isolation.

This linguistic tension reflects the larger theme of miscommunication in the film. Language is not just a practical tool for dialogue but a symbol of deeper cultural and emotional divides. Antoine and Olga, despite their efforts to integrate into the community, are unable to fully understand or be understood by the villagers, and this lack of connection ultimately drives the story towards its tragic conclusion.

Isolation: Physical, Emotional, and Cultural

The isolation in As Bestas is both geographical and psychological. The village’s remote location, surrounded by mountains and forests, creates a physical barrier between the characters and the outside world. This physical isolation is mirrored in the emotional distance between the locals and the outsiders. For Antoine and Olga, the isolation is not just about geography; it is about their inability to break into the social and cultural world of the village. Despite their best intentions, they remain outsiders in a place where everyone else is deeply connected to the land and each other.

For the locals, this isolation is a source of both pride and pain. Xan and Lorenzo are fiercely protective of their territory, but they are also painfully aware of the village’s shrinking future. The isolation breeds a sense of defensiveness, as the villagers become increasingly wary of anything that threatens their control over their land and their way of life.

Conflict: Modernity vs. Tradition

At the heart of As Bestas is the conflict between modernity and tradition. Antoine and Olga represent a forward-looking vision of rural life, with their emphasis on sustainable farming and eco-tourism. However, this vision clashes with the villagers’ need for economic survival. The wind turbine project, seen by the locals as a necessary step towards securing their future, becomes the catalyst for the conflict.

This tension between modernity and tradition is not only economic but also cultural. Antoine and Olga’s idealism feels out of place in a community that is struggling with the realities of rural decline. The film suggests that even well-meaning efforts to “improve” a place can be seen as invasive when they come from outsiders who do not fully understand the local dynamics.

Conclusion: Geography, Language, and Depopulation as Catalysts for Tension

As Bestas is a powerful exploration of how geography, language, and depopulation shape human conflict and relationships. The remote landscapes of Galicia are not just a setting but a force that drives the characters’ actions and emotions. Depopulation, with its accompanying economic and social decline, creates a heightened sense of territoriality and fear, while the language barrier deepens the divide between the locals and the outsiders.

Through its rich portrayal of these themes, As Bestas offers a haunting look at the fragility of rural life in the face of modern pressures. The film’s tense, slow-burning narrative reveals the complexities of community, belonging, and the struggle to hold on to a way of life that is rapidly disappearing. In the end, As Bestas is not just a story of interpersonal conflict, but a meditation on the larger forces—geography, language, and depopulation—that shape the human experience in isolated, shrinking communities.