Hanka visits her lonely grandfather and everything is a trip back in time, including the act of eating homemade preserves. But to talk about the past is also to confront the present.
A train journey, a schnitzel, and expired pickles serve as the starting point for a narrative that oscillates between the themes of the old and the new, the past and the present, between what moves and what remains unchanged. Winter Monologues is a poignant film that portrays the life found in banal gestures and all that they contain: what has already passed and what could have been. But above all, it is a story about the affection shared at the table, during mealtime, where romantic love carries a duality: it is part of the grandfather’s memory and an unknown in the granddaughter’s future. In the end, we are left with a beautiful reflection on what remains and what is preserved over time. And a truly familiar reality: the love between granddaughter and grandfather is nurtured, not by grand gestures, but through the sharing of food and small pieces of wisdom. A reminder that, as Patti Smith says, “love is a banquet on which we feed.” (Jéssica Pestana)
