To Elena, existence is an effort—not only does she struggle against her body affected by Parkinson’s, but her daughter has just shown up dead and only she finds the suicide hypothesis implausible. Elena is not a good victim, and doesn’t show signs of having been a selfless mother. She is vulnerable, but also overcome by rage and sorrow, and that stubbornness seems to render her invincible, against all odds. But investigating the reasons for her daughter’s death soon becomes a trip through memory, and, as we’ve known since the time of Greek tragedies, every investigation is, deep down, an investigation about oneself. Elena Knows submerges us in the physical and mental experience of its protagonist and, at the same time, invites us to ask ourselves uncomfortable questions about aging, the complexity of mother-daughter bonds and the weight of those mandates women drag the same way Elena drags her feet.
To Elena, existence is an effort—not only does she struggle against her body affected by Parkinson’s, but her daughter has just shown up dead and only she finds the suicide hypothesis implausible. Elena is not a good victim, and doesn’t show signs of having been a selfless mother. She is vulnerable, but also overcome by rage and sorrow, and that stubbornness seems to render her invincible, against all odds. But investigating the reasons for her daughter’s death soon becomes a trip through memory, and, as we’ve known since the time of Greek tragedies, every investigation is, deep down, an investigation about oneself. Elena Knows submerges us in the physical and mental experience of its protagonist and, at the same time, invites us to ask ourselves uncomfortable questions about aging, the complexity of mother-daughter bonds and the weight of those mandates women drag the same way Elena drags her feet.