A rock band has to record their third LP, which will either propel them to stardom or fade into oblivion. Despite executives’ reservations, their idea is to have the recording take place in New York. But everything complicates, and the creative process turns into a hellish ordeal. A love triangle with all its consequences unfolds, band members desert, romantic relationships shatter, rehearsals become rampant with drugs and alcohol, and the unbearable pressure from the record label leads to endless fights and arguments only interrupted by fleeting moments of happiness. Meanwhile, unknowingly, they will be composing an album that will leave a mark on an entire generation.

A teenager who went missing and was presumed dead returns home after eight years to find a family deeply affected by his disappearance. Gradually, doubts arise about whether he really is the missing boy or an impostor.

Céline and Ramón are a young binational couple who survived the terrorist attack at the Bataclan theatre on November 13, 2015. That harrowing night has left an open wound in their lives and they are struggling to regain a sense of normality and move beyond the identity they have been assigned as victims. While Céline has repressed her experience and thrown herself back into her old life, Ramón is stuck in the past. Both are grappling with the same question: how can they survive and move on as a couple?
Adapted from the testimony of Spanish Bataclan survivor Ramón Gonzalez, Un año, una noche is an intensely empathetic work. The therapeutic process of turning traumatic facts into fiction by committing them to paper has apparently helped this young man return to his life. Filmmaker Isaki Lacuesta’s intuitive direction embraces realism and subjectivity to tackle the central paradox in a wounded psyche: the need to break away from the reality of one’s memories in order to get a grip on reality. Thanks to astonishingly subtle yet explosively emotional performances from Nahuel Pérez Biscayart and Noémie Merlant, these memories become ours, too. They make us feel that together, we can try to heal the collective wound.