Ana Y Bruno !new!

One night, Ana awakens to find a strange, small, blue creature hiding in her wardrobe. This is Bruno. Bruno is not a cute sidekick in the vein of a Disney mascot; he is charming, sarcastic, and possesses a moth-eaten appearance. Bruno reveals that Ana’s mother is not merely sick; the "monsters" that live inside the house—the personifications of sadness, regrets, and past traumas—have physically trapped her mother’s mind.

stands as a daring piece of cinema that respects its young audience enough to show them the shadows. It suggests that while the "monsters" born of trauma are scary, they can also be allies in the quest for truth and healing. In a landscape often dominated by sanitized family features, Carlos Carrera’s work is a haunting reminder of the complexity of the child’s mind. Ana y Bruno

Bruno claimed he came from a map Ana had folded as a child and left under her pillow. He carried stories in the pockets of his coat: a tale about a lighthouse that forgot why it shone, a recipe for soup that could make you dream in someone else's accent, and instructions for teaching forgetful trees to remember the names of birds. He tasted of salt and cinnamon and, inexplicably, of rain on pavement. One night, Ana awakens to find a strange,