Constanza is 35 years old. She works as a cleaning lady for Irene, a woman of 65 who is temporarily confined to a wheelchair. The film concentrates on Constanza’s meticulous, almost obsessive gestures. As the hours pass, the repetition and melancholy become more and more oppressive, until this daily pattern is shattered.

Irene is my mother and Constanza is Constanza. Each person is playing their own role. I asked my mother to put herself back in that situation of disability, which to my knowledge is one of the most difficult that she has had to live through. Through the figure of Constanza I was able to approach this subject, even if only indirectly. That was not the starting point of the film, and it is not the central subject, but it became the part that touched me most personally.

The process of creating the film made me (re)discover what making fiction means to me and, by the same token, what cinema is all about: a constant (re)discovery of things, a coming and going between loss and the reassertion of control.