Buenas noches, España

Spanish colonial domination has a very unusual translation in this experimental road movie. Raya Martin took an anecdote about a Filipino soldier who suddenly wakes up and finds himself in Mexico City in 1593. A case of teleportation, and the same goes for the holiday trip by the lovers in the film. They stop the car to admire a mountain panorama, stroll through the city, pull faces at each other and visit a museum, where they exhibit themselves to each other with corny surrender.
The scenes, edited associatively, are regularly repeated. Are the protagonists about to be shot off to a different place or time? And is that because they are under the influence of drugs? Martin designs his film as a psychedelic LSD trip: the images are oversaturated in bright reds, blues, yellows and pinks and supported by a grinding and scratchy soundtrack. In his visual essay, Martin reflects on being stuck in time. An obsession with history - the colonial past of Spain, Mexico and the Philippines - has blocked the couple.