Izaskun Arandia's "My Way Out" star is a London club that for thirty years has been a refuge for the trans community. Well, that's not entirely true, because Arandia's film doesn't look at a single star, but looks at a whole galaxy. In fact, the documentary that competes in the section of Zinemira focuses on the women who are part of the club, the transes.

Izaskun Arandia has been behind several projects that have been developed lately in Euskal Herria, both a writer – Bihar dok 13 (2018) – and a producer – Non dago Mikel? (2020)– My way out is therefore the first project led by Arandia, which bears the documentary magic of the London club.

The videos of the eleven shows offered over these thirty years and the images of the current festive atmosphere accompany the interviewed women. Between music, dance and drinks, each woman gives the viewer her own memories, anecdotes and tips, drawing a plural story of the place that has become a reference for the trans community. Everyone insists on how important the corner headed by Tim Vicky Lee has been as a safe place for socialization, both for the LGTB community and for anyone else.

The format that crosses conversations and dance doesn't leave much room for surprise. Although it is not very innovative in this sense, the film is full of female reflections that are portrayed. In addition, my wish for surprise has been fulfilled in the presentation and subsequent colloquium, as together with Izaskun Arandia we have had Vicky Lee and his partner Leslie among us. Having been applauded, they have shared with us the club’s latest news and reaffirmed their support for the struggle of trans women.

I left the neon lights of the Way Out club and travelled with A human position to the serenity of a small Norwegian people. Asta (Amalie Ibsen Jensen) is the protagonist of the local newspaper. News without much charm and its seemingly exhausted relationship are wrapped up in a day to day as agile as annoying. Burdened by the luminous mansion, comfortable work and lush life, Asta is a clear Scandinavian case of the 21st century anointing. But repetitive blue days, with no beginning or end, will gain a new meaning when you know the news of an asylum seeker who has been expelled from the country.

Director Anders Box reflects on the screen in a very clever way the time of the week. The slow internal compositions, the fixed camera and the long planes make us a recurring and real life of the protagonist. In addition, each plane full of cool beauties breaks the recorded and melancholy melody of the story. The way to shape a very simple story as a whole, which in its smallness suggests an almost transcendental grandeur. For me it has been one of the favorite discoveries of the festival, A human position of the Zabaltegi-Tabakalera section. Only a few shy applause has been heard in the room at the end of the film.