A list like the one from the survey on Catalan cinema among 200 experts, promoted by ARA, is not only useful for awarding or removing medals from films or directors, but also for studying and analyzing the image left by the votes. If we take the 25 most voted films as a representative sample, a first conclusion is that this canon of Catalan cinema is moving towards parity. There are nine films directed by women in the top 25 of the list, that is, 36%; but if we focus only on the films on this list produced in the last fifteen years, which are those of the great arrival of women in cinema, the percentage of female directors rises to 50%. It is worth noting that among the five most voted films there is only one directed by a woman, and among the ten most voted only three, but this imbalance at the top of the list is compensated, in part, by the significant first position ofEstiu 1993, directed by Carla Simón.

To celebrate that Estiu 1993 has been chosen by 200 experts as the most important film in Catalan cinema of the 21st century, ARA brought together a few days ago, at Cines Verdi, two of its actors: David Verdaguer and Laia Artigas. She was the girl who still doesn't know how to manage her emotions after her parents' death, and he was the uncle who welcomed her into his family as one more daughter. The two actors share a manager, but they hadn't seen each other for a while. Artigas, who will soon turn 18, recalls with a smile the "special" relationship she had with Verdaguer. When Artigas watches Estiu 1993 –

During the launch of Artemis II in NASA's lunar mission, CNN interviewed William Shatner, the actor who played Captain Kirk in the series Star Trek. Shatner didn't just navigate the Universe in fiction. In 2021, at ninety years old, he traveled to space with Blue Origin. When asked about the experience of seeing Earth from so far away, he confessed that he felt immense sadness. In his memoirs, he explained that he couldn't stop crying: “My trip to space was supposed to be a celebration and, instead, it was a funeral. It was one of the most intense sensations I have ever experienced. The contrast between the ruthless coldness of space and the protective warmth of Earth, down there, filled me with overwhelming sadness. Every day we learn of new destructions of Earth caused by ourselves: the extinction of animal species, of flora and fauna... things that have taken five billion years to evolve and which, suddenly, we will never see again due to human interference. It filled me with dread”.

Southeastern Spain, one of the most arid areas in Europe, has established itself as one of the continent's main agricultural hubs. Despite having a climate marked by minimal rainfall and long periods of drought, this region has become the heart of the so-called "Europe's garden". Thanks to state policies, desalination plants, artificial reservoirs, and complex water transfer systems between river basins have been built, allowing vast areas that were previously unproductive to be irrigated.

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Humanity, with the Artemis mission, is once again looking towards the Moon and, with it, unearths from the memory chest the old space race that marked the Cold War. Back then, amidst the dangerous tensions between the United States and the Soviet Union, the world fractured into two irreconcilable blocs and the conquest of space became another stage for geopolitical competition. It was not just about reaching further, but about demonstrating who had the capacity to impose themselves on the other. In this context, the media flooded the collective imagination for years with images of rockets, astronauts, and distant planets. A persistent iconography that not only informed, but also shaped how society thought about tomorrow. Because, fundamentally, every society is also built upon this inevitable question: what awaits us in the future?Imagining life in space involved speculating about what this day-to-day would be like, and design was launched to rethink furniture, cars, and housing for this projected future. Between armchairs that evoked capsules and residences that seemed like orbital stations, the "space age" fashion was born, conceived to facilitate a hypothetical interplanetary life. Creators like André Courrèges or Pierre Cardin opted for rigid outfits, detached from the body, almost like shells. White, associated with the aerospace universe, became the dominant color, accompanied by helmets and metallic boots. In parallel, Paco Rabanne's proposals took fashion towards the realm of engineering, with pieces made of metallic plates that stretched the very limits of the discipline.What is revealing, seen with perspective, is the extent to which these speculations about the future have outstripped reality. If we had listened to Stanley Kubrick with 2001: A Space Odyssey, to Star Trek or even to The Jetsons, today we would already be living among flying cars, off planet Earth and in zero gravity conditions. But perhaps it is even more significant to note that, if technological imagination often goes too far, it tends, on the other hand, to fall short in other areas: such as women's rights. In these imaginary worlds, they continue to occupy subordinate positions, even in futures where humanity already inhabits other planets. And this forces us to ask whether we are really dealing with speculations or, rather, with projected male desires.However, beyond the television impact of the first moon landing –a moment highly choreographed from a propagandistic point of view by the United States–, the most transformative image was not that of the Moon, but that of the Earth. The Blue Marble photograph, which became humanity's first selfie, revealed a paradox: after years of division and confrontation, what we saw was, in reality, a single shared unit. And it was precisely this compact image that activated, in a part of the population, a new pacifist and ecological consciousness.Unlike the Cold War, today the United States does not compete in a strictly bipolar world, even though the space race continues to be a duel, this time with China, which has also set out to step on the Moon in the coming years. It is, however, inevitable to point out the paradox: at a time when the world seems to be fragmenting and humanity is going through a deep crisis of values, we look outwards again. Perhaps, as in Andrei Tarkovsky's Solaris", this journey is not so much about the future as about the past. Or perhaps – and herein lies the question – it should serve us, precisely, to look better in the mirror and rethink where we stand as humanity. But perhaps, seeing the recent images of Artemis astronauts wishing a Happy Easter from space and looking for eggs around the ship, what is in doubt is not the future, but whether we still have any shred of self-awareness.

Arantxa Marenyà studied translation and interpretation and worked as an English teacher in secondary school, but years ago she trained in nonviolent communication, a discipline that proposes an empathic approach to managing conflicts and improving relationships. Now she dedicates herself to training on this method, which is based on speaking from needs and not from criticism and which, she says, could make the world a kinder place.

The Easter break has multiplied photographs on social networks. The extra days of rest and the leisure activities that result from them cause an avalanche of postcards showcasing well-being to attest to their transformative power. Since a smile is a way to demonstrate this, experts have appeared on social networks offering advice on managing facial expressions to ensure their success. One should avoid the half-hearted smile of obligation or the strained grimace in order to be convincing or achieve a certain photogenicity. Shouting "Lluís!" while prolonging the "i", switching to English to say "cheese", or syllabifying "pa-ta-ta" is no longer in vogue.Now, the new trend is to explain the Duchenne smile theory almost as an infallible solution for communicating a true feeling of happiness. The Duchenne smile is the result of the activation of two facial muscles that supposedly cause a sincere and heartfelt laugh. The name comes from the neurologist who investigated this correlation between facial expressions and the association with the emotions that result from them. In the 19th century, Guillaume Duchenne de Boulogne was obsessed with understanding the mechanisms of the face for expressing emotions. He applied electrical shocks to the facial muscles of his patients to stimulate them in a very specific way, to see what grimaces appeared and what emotions they seemed to correspond to. The result was recorded in a terribly disturbing book: Mécanisme de la physionomie humaine

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If throughout the 20th century many European monarchies could be politically justified as guarantors of democratic values – for example, for not having cooperated with fascism during the world wars –, now this situation has changed. The refinement of the meaning of democracy in the minds of European citizens means that the thrones that have reached our days have become misaligned with the concept of democracy that large segments of society now hold. This society demands that the representatives of its highest institutions not only formally adhere to democratic values, but also live a life consistent with those values. A tangible adherence. Adapting to this new phase is infinitely more complex for monarchies than any previous reform, since these institutions are intrinsically contrary to what meritocracy and equality mean, the two essential pillars upon which a democracy is indefectibly built today.

Easter Week, beyond processions, masses, palms, and "monas" (cakes), displays a repertoire of vestments that we have learned to look at without seeing. Garments that, being so familiar, have ceased to seem strange to us, but which, if we pause for a moment, are profoundly unusual and far removed from any form of everyday dress. And among the mantillas with combs, the Nazarene tunics, the girdles, or the cloaks of the virgins, there is an element that stands out for its formal power and its symbolic connotations: the hood. The doors of Seville Cathedral open and the first Nazarenes begin to emerge, in a line, surrounded by an intense smell of wax and incense. Tunics, candles, and pointed hoods that rise above everything. The drums mark a dry and constant rhythm and the attendees remain expectant, in a contained silence. The faces of the Nazarenes are not seen, only their eyes, and the street, for a moment, ceases to be an everyday space to become a stage. The hood has fulfilled its function: to make individual identity disappear to give prominence to the saint being worshipped. In this way, it ensures that the wearer is seen without being recognized and allows them to enter the structure of the ritual, assuming an attitude of discipline and surrender. But what is the origin of this strange hat, which has survived centuries of history?Its origin is not, in any case, processional, but rather it was born as an instrument of public penance between the 15th and 17th centuries, in the context of the Holy Inquisition. The condemned were exhibited with sambenets — a type of tunic — and coroces — hats often conical or pointed —. Its function was clearly punitive and exemplary: to make sin visible and to humiliate the sinner. Far from pursuing anonymity, as happens today, it was about marking the body and exposing it publicly.It will be between the 17th and 18th centuries when Holy Week processions are institutionalized and penance ceases to be imposed to become voluntary. In this new context, the hood is re-signified: it comes to symbolize spiritual aspiration —with its projection towards heaven—, the assumption of religious discipline, and the centrality of the ritual over the person. But beyond its morphology, there is a question that is even more unsettling and often bewilders many visitors: what relationship does this piece have with the Ku Klux Klan (KKK)?The KKK was founded in 1865, after the Civil War, as a violent reaction against the abolition of slavery and with the aim of restoring white supremacy. It deployed a regime of terror and intimidation against the African American population, and to do so it equipped itself with a deliberate aesthetic of authority and threat. Its iconography —white robe and pointed hood— draws from a mixture of imaginaries, among which are European phantasmagorical, ritual, and religious references. The formal coincidence with the hood is evident, but its meaning is radically opposite. If in the context of Holy Week anonymity expresses humility, penance, and dissolution of the self, in the case of the KKK it serves to guarantee impunity and exercise collective violence. The same operation, that of concealing identity, which can serve both to submit and to dominate.Easter Sunday brings the Holy Week to an end and, with it, the time of penance. The solemnity fades away as easily as a Nazarene takes off his hood. A few days later, in Andalusia, the calendar turns and the revelry of the April Fair makes way: colors, ruffles, moons, exposed bodies, flowers in hair, Manila shawls... The contrast is so immediate that it is difficult not to wonder to what extent what we have seen was a deep experience or a shared theatricalization. Garments that are activated and deactivated as ways of organizing bodies, time, and desire.

To Charlie Pee, one of the most prominent comedians of her generation, known for her live shows and for her collaboration with the program La resistencia, she likes to make people laugh, but what she likes most is to make herself laugh. This, she says, helps her better digest difficult experiences. We talk to her about the connection between laughter and happiness and how people who make us laugh from a stage also seek this joy through the laughter of others.

In 2001, Martin Seligman, a psychology professor at the University of Pennsylvania, began to notice the emotional burden of decades of research into depression and mental illness. He felt that the professional approach based on trying to cure trauma was imbuing him with a certain sadness. This led him to reflect on psychological therapies, often so focused on repairing harm that they forget to inject us with a good dose of optimism that makes us face life with more enthusiasm and joy. Seligman had just been elected president of the American Psychological Association and paved the way in a new direction: the so-called positive psychology. He wanted to study, scientifically, what the mechanisms are that make us feel that life is worth living. He did not intend to build any abstract theory but to establish effective behaviors that could be tested and measured. In 2005, Seligman and his research team recruited four hundred and eleven volunteers and divided them into five groups. One group would make a list of positive memories, another would identify their personal strengths. A third group would introduce small specified changes in their daily lives and a fourth would limit themselves to describing childhood memories. The fifth group would undertake a more elaborate task: they would write a letter of gratitude to someone important in their life, someone to whom they had not properly thanked. Afterwards, they would call them by phone, arrange to meet without explaining the reason, and once they had the person in front of them, they would read the letter aloud. It could not be a card with a meager “thanks for everything” to get it over with. The letter had to be about three hundred words long and specify the reasons for the gratitude, the details of that event, and how that person's gesture had changed their life. They named this exercise the gratitude visit.

A sign that says "Welcome to the Gross Happiness CountryIt welcomes you to Paro International Airport in Bhutan. Next to it is a large portrait of the king and queen and a sign reminding you that smoking is prohibited throughout the country and that the speed limit is 50 kilometers per hour.

In recent days, the image of Chinese actress Zhang Jingyi on the red carpet at the Beijing International Film Festival has spread like wildfire across social media and various trending outlets. The actress puts on the photocall Dressed in an elegant black dress. So far, nothing out of the ordinary. The reason for the viral video is something else: in her hand she's carrying a simple yellow plastic bag, the kind used for grocery shopping or taking out the trash at home.

In the early afternoon, the Hikawa Bridge transforms into a small, impromptu film set. A group of young women, dressed in soft-hued kimonos, take photographs while laughing and trying to capture with their eyes the gentle rain of petals falling on the river. Below them, small boats glide calmly along the Shingashi River, amidst white and pink freckles floating on the surface. On the banks, cherry blossoms create an ephemeral tunnel, making Kawagoe a living postcard of Japan's most evocative side.

A butterfly that travels from Canada to Mexico to hibernate and reproduce, a whale that holds its species' record with 22,500 kilometers of travel across the oceans, or the arctic tern, a bird that -attention, spoiler- holds the longest migration in the animal kingdom. Now that spring is beginning and with it many species are on the move, we explain the main migratory routes of planetary fauna. The highways of wildlife.

In one of the approximately one hundred thousand WhatsApp groups of friends I belong to (and which have so many women, especially those in their later years), we spent quite a while discussing an Instagram post announcing that youth is no longer an age, but an energy. The headline is brilliant, and at first glance, I bought it wholeheartedly. I myself am fifty-six years old and I feel energetically young. And I think about it every Monday, because I like to start the week with a little madness: going to the gym for the seven o'clock weightlifting class. I've always been told I have a lot of energy, and as you can see, it hasn't diminished with age. My hands hurt more (osteoarthritis), I complain from time to time about my hip (that's the trochanteric bursitis trying to come back), I need a mouthguard to avoid straining my jaw at night, I take five hundred supplements to prevent it... However, I feel full of life. And I told myself that perhaps the post was right, and I do belong to what they now call the new young, he midlife expanding.

In the waiting room of a medical center, I meet a man, around sixty years old, with his arm in a sling. The poor cell phone reception forces us to put our phones away, and we discuss the slow patient care. We start a conversation about our respective ailments, and he tells me that he dislocated his shoulder while unloading a huge table from a truck. He works as a delivery driver for a logistics company. He's anxious because he's been off work for a month and isn't getting any better. He's lost strength in his arm and can't lift anything heavy. He can't drive either because of the pain. He's afraid of losing his job and, at his age, thinks it would be very difficult to find another one. He transports furniture that we buy online: tables, beds, wardrobes, chests of drawers, sofas, and all kinds of large furniture. He rattles off all the brands they sell because he's convinced I know them. And he's right. They're very popular home decor and furniture websites. He says I can't even imagine the sheer number of deliveries that go wrong each workday. Furniture that has traveled such a long way, from countries all over Europe, changing logistics centers and trucks multiple times, that the packaging deteriorates and the merchandise is damaged. Often, they unload very heavy packages, and once they leave it with the customer and the customer checks the condition of the furniture, they ask them to take it back. In fact, a large part of the trips are for returns. They have to go back and pick up what they delivered a few days earlier, either themselves or with their colleagues. He says there are times when he's been to the same house up to three times because of the unsuccessful attempts to get the furniture delivered properly. He also explains how often there aren't enough workers to carry the weight of the furniture. The day he was injured unloading the table, the transport document specified "minimum four workers." To put it on the truck at the warehouse, it took four men with the help of a crane. To deliver it to the customer's home, it took only two, which is the usual number. Every delivery is an adventure, and many end in failure. There are sofas or wardrobes that won't fit through the stairwell or in the elevator. After all the effort, they have to abandon their epic quest. Often, the failure is accompanied by boos and wails from dissatisfied customers. The man admits he doesn't know much about business, but he doesn't understand how these furniture companies survive given the losses he sees, both from damaged goods and failed deliveries. "It's just merchandise being thrown away," he tells me, "who knows where it'll end up." A huge amount of furniture, after being tossed around the city, will never reach the buyer's home. He's gotten used to it, but assures me that I'm not responsible for the number of pieces that are chipped, broken, or have manufacturing and assembly defects. It happens so often each day that when everything goes well, it feels like a miracle, because almost every delivery has a problem. He takes out his phone, opens the photo app, and starts scrolling through the images so I can see the pile of pictures he's accumulated on his phone to document the damage. He's not just doing it to submit the report, but to protect himself from any liability.