The story follows Ángela, a deaf woman expecting her first child, and her fear of missing the milestones most parents take for granted. What emerges is an intimate drama about love, language, and the quiet weight of anticipation.
Miriam Garlo gives Ángela a strength edged with fragility, while Álvaro Cervantes is affecting as her partner Héctor—well-meaning, caring, yet often out of his depth. Eva Libertad’s direction is restrained, keeping hands and expressions in full view, with a camera that favours closeness over gloss. Sound design does the rest, shifting from silence to noise to mirror Ángela’s world.
At one point the soundtrack drops away, immersing us in muffled calm before jolting into shrill distortion when she straps on the hearing aids she hates. It’s a simple device but devastatingly effective: empathy delivered through form.
The film also captures the contradictions of new motherhood—moments of joy pierced by fear, anxiety, and doubt. A few scenes overstate their point, but its honesty carries it. Deaf is often heartbreaking, especially in showing Ángela’s dread of missing her child’s “firsts.” It’s less a message film than a portrait of communication under strain—awkward, moving, and deeply human.