Saturday, January 24: Watching and Wandering

The forecast predicted rain all week, so I kept my expectations low. The morning, however, was dry. I walked through downtown Biarritz before my first screening at 10:15 a.m. The city felt almost suspended in time: rows of hotels, semi-tropical greenery even in winter, restaurants either closed or just waking up for the day. I saw a few locals carrying their trash to public bins.

The first film I saw was The Queen and the Smokehouse, directed by a young Polish filmmaker. It’s part of the European Stories competition, and FIPADOC marked its international premiere. Though my viewing choices throughout the festival were shaped largely by logistics, as I booked screenings only shortly before arriving, and many popular ones, especially in the New Talent section, were already sold out, The Queen is exactly the kind of film that would be difficult to view elsewhere.

The film is a character-driven portrait of a woman who has run a landmark smokehouse in an amusement park for decades. When her health declines, her priorities in life begin to shift. The story has a clear narrative arc and is visually polished. While the protagonist’s transformation felt somewhat expected, the director showed a strong eye for detail; small moments—like the protagonist storing cash in a teapot—stayed with me.

The Q&A was conducted in French, which limited my understanding, but luckily, the director spoke English. I noticed that the audience questions focused primarily on the protagonist rather than the filmmaking process. The crowd felt largely non-industry, yet deeply engaged, curious, and emotionally invested.

Later in the day, the sun came out. Standing by the coast and watching the waves crash in, I understood why Biarritz is considered a surfer’s paradise. There were plenty of surf shops and hip cafés, though there were fewer young people around. Perhaps because it was winter, the off-season.

In the afternoon, I watched The Undergrowth (La Hojarasca, dir. Macu Machín), which had screened at Berlinale Forum in 2025 and is part of the Spain & Portugal Focus section. The film follows three sisters who reunite on a volcanic island, where a discussion of inheritance reopens old tensions and memories. It became my favorite film of the trip. Patient and restrained, the film unfolds like a fable, with remarkable emotional depth and imagery reminiscent of 19th-century rural naturalism paintings. 

I ended the day walking aimlessly and doing prep for the industry meetings ahead. On my way out of the venue, a rainbow appeared over the sea. What a small, unexpected gift.

Sunday, January 25: More Films and the Local Food Market

Despite the rainy forecast, the morning brought more sunlight. I attended a 10 a.m. screening of Lamb of God (dir. Massimiliano Camaiti). Even early on a Sunday, the theater was nearly full. The film follows the annual tradition at Rome’s Santa Cecilia Monastery, where two newborn lambs are blessed and raised by a cloistered nun until their wool is woven into the Pope’s pallium. The film is part of the International Competition and later won the Michel Mitrani Discovery Award. 

For lunch, I wandered into the local market and happily got lost. I sampled a quiche and a small pigeon. Both were delicious. The market was vibrant, filled with fresh vegetables, cured meats, seafood, and ready-to-eat dishes. It’s absolutely worth visiting if you’re in town.

In the evening, I watched Sisters (dir. Julia Zahar), a French documentary that is part of the French Speaking Documentaries Panorama section. The film adopts an intimate, first-person visual language, closely embedded in everyday life, as the filmmaker follows her younger sister’s struggle with severe depression over four years, exploring their bond and the journey toward healing.

Watching these films—many of them major festival premieres—gave me a clearer sense of what festivals, broadcasters, and the broader documentary landscape are currently responding to. They were diverse in style, ranging from classical character-driven narratives to more restrained, observational works. Spending these extra days in the cinema became an important part of my research process. It allowed me to step outside the immediate pressures of pitching and reflect on the form and tone of our own film. 

By nightfall, the weather turned harsh with strong winds and heavy rain, but I felt excited for the industry days ahead.