The Sense ficció from Tuesday collected the harrowing testimony of families with children with rare diseases. So rare that, instead of having a name, they have a code of numbers and letters that makes them even more unusual and unknown. Moure muntanyes shows the titanic and exhausting struggle of parents to get treatment for their children that improves their living conditions. It is a documentary where we see their day-to-day life, which is not easy and very expensive, to meet the needs of these beloved children who are so well cared for at home, but so abandoned by institutions and science. It was inevitable to think if the Minister of Health, Olga Pané, or the president Salvador Illa, who was Minister of Health, would be watching the Sense ficció. Moure muntanyes delves into the daily lives of families with great sensitivity and prudence, but its observation is not neutral. Scenes are selected that show the emotional and physical exhaustion, the family consequences, the lack of rest, the perseverance, and the economic implications. The camera maintains the right distance from the minors. The incorporation of family mobile phone recordings over the years gives the perspective of the passage of time, of commitment, and of unconditional love for their children. But also how their lives have been transformed. It was inevitable, in the odyssey of these families, to read it with a gender perspective.The protagonists of the documentary, the mothers and fathers, explain themselves with a clarity and honesty that is deeply moving. The documentary manages to weave bonds of trust, and it is noticeable that the witnesses also see the production as an almost cathartic opportunity for personal, medical, and social denunciation. They utter devastating phrases and poignant conclusions before the camera: “At the most vulnerable moment, you have to be as lucid as possible”. “If you don't have a diagnosis, you don't have a prognosis”. “Despite everything, my daughter is happy. I am not. But she is”. “Not enough research is done because it is not profitable”. “When you have a diagnosis, it's very hard. But when you don't, it's very hard”. “We, before the diagnosis, already realized that Martí would not be the child we expected”. “Every new stage brings me new grief. And grief has no expiration date”. “A diagnosis is a sentence, because it takes away your hope”. “There is nothing worse than seeing what your child needs and not being able to give it to them because you don't have money”. “We become caregivers and lose the perspective that we are parents”. “I understood why hospitals have closed windows. Because when they gave us the diagnosis in that room, I looked at all the windows. I would have jumped out the window with my daughter”. “Eva is Eva. Sometimes her circumstances are shit, but she is not. She is perfect”. All these phrases linger within you for days after watching the documentary.

On Three Kings' Day, a day when children are the protagonists and everyone participates in a family ritual, TV3 had the subtle irony to end the day by scheduling a Non-fiction About Michael Jackson. Wonderful! What subtlety. What a great knack for timing. Now that's what it means to conceive of television programming with deep reflection and a sense of service. Nothing could be more fitting to bid farewell to Three Kings' Day than to offer a hagiographic and uncritical documentary celebrating an artist against whom serious accusations of pedophilia have been leveled. It is irrefutable proof of an awareness of the symbolic value of television content. The documentary This is it It compiles Michael Jackson's final rehearsals for a series of concerts that were never performed due to his sudden death in June 2009. As a documentary, it's an interesting work that showcases Jackson's undeniable talent. His death in the midst of the creative process influences our interpretation of what we see. This is it It's a full-fledged tribute. It's an act of veneration of the myth, even with historical intent. It's a demonstration of what could have been but never was, with a retrospective and elegiac character.

He Non-fiction Tuesday's was a preliminary to The Marathon This weekend. The documentary, MotherThe documentary features Gemma Guzmán, a woman diagnosed with breast cancer three years ago who subsequently developed brain metastases. We see her undergoing chemotherapy sessions to manage the disease. The generosity of the protagonist and her family is essential to the film, but simply being in front of the camera and talking about her situation seems to have a positive effect on her emotional well-being. The production is very modest, and the script opts for a very direct and intuitive approach, with a somewhat static narrative development. Despite these formal limitations, however, there is a very moving and exceptionally powerful sequence.

Flood alert, he Non-fiction this Tuesday on TV3, It began with incredible force. We felt as if we were witnessing a reenactment of a conversation between the documentary's director, Laia Mestre, and a technician from the Catalan Water Agency (ACA). First, they established a confidentiality agreement, and then the man claimed to have been pressured by city councils and superiors to sign reports that should never have been approved. Highlighting administrative negligence related to disaster situations, they transported us to the heart of the story: the construction of housing in areas with a high risk of flooding.

On Tuesday the Non-fiction He was doing a historical memory job in a very different sense than this type of perspective usually has in the past. Memory of the heroineShe sought out as witnesses the victims of this drug, not only users and former users, but also those who lost loved ones due to reasons related to its use. It's a perspective that adds a sociopolitical dimension, going beyond the family drama behind each case.

He Nights without fiction It has become a dead end for documentaries that has lost its stamp, direction, and critical eye. It now welcomes all kinds of productions, the only condition they must meet is that they are low costAnd this results in documentaries that are poor despite their good intentions, or that are old, amateurish, or of poor quality. It has also become a container for analysis programs when it suits them and, in the process, a television wild card: the promos announce documentaries that will later change depending on the wind. The loss of the title Non-fiction, in this guise of name changes on a whim, has implied the loss of the personality, prestige, and coherence that the format once had.

Flood alert is a documentary that sheds light on the pressure allegedly received by technicians from the Catalan Water Agency (ACA) to sign favorable reports for construction projects in areas at risk of flooding, in the midst of the real estate bubble. The piece was scheduled to premiere this Tuesday on TV3, but the news department has postponed it, without a date, and has argued that it does not meet the journalistic standards of the house. Those responsible for the work, according to Octuvre.cat, believe they are victims of "disguised censorship" and have obtained the support of both the Nights without fiction which was supposed to be offered as part of the professional council, the body that represents journalists at Catalan public television.

On Tuesday the Non-fiction issued Black has a name, the documentary that explores the controversy that erupted in Catalonia over the stuffed man exhibited at the Museu Darder in Banyoles. Alphonse Arceline was the doctor who denounced the racism and dehumanization that came with presenting him as a mere ethnographic and anthropological specimen. His struggle now serves as a social portrait of an era: the Catalonia of the Barcelona Olympic Games. If you haven't seen it, catch up on the 3Cat platform. The original three-part format allows for deeper details. Black has a name It will surprise you, because it goes beyond the story of that man born in 1803 and who was exhumed from his grave by two French explorers. Fèlix Colomer, the director of the miniseries, does an extraordinary job of putting the spotlight on this case. He revisits the controversy of the 1990s over whether or not to return this supposed Bushman warrior to his country of origin. The documentary filmmaker contacts the protagonists who led the different factions of the debate and, armed with television footage from the time, confronts them with the arguments of the past. And the result is as revealing as it is entertaining. Three decades later, the hermeneutics of current events and social sensibilities have changed. And those who doubt it need only watch the documentary. Racism was so inherent in society that many didn't even realize it. With hindsight, it's embarrassing. And Fèlix Colomer plays with that element when reconstructing the events. The protagonists must come to terms with their past statements, and it's not easy: some pretend they don't remember, others deny the evidence, and some try to justify themselves. The subtleties of changing the narrative or distancing themselves from past positions end up being comical. The way the media—TV3's entertainment network in particular—treated the case is now shocking. The start of the third episode makes you smile, because everything we now consider offensive and degrading was handled with a humorous disinhibition that is very uncomfortable today.

On Tuesday night TV3 was broadcasting Overexposed childhood, one Non-fiction devastating and deeply disturbing for everything it reveals in a clear and compelling way. The documentary warns of the risks posed by exposing minors to social media. "It's on social media, and also in video games, where pedophiles begin their activity. The reason is that that's where minors congregate," says a squad member specializing in cybersecurity. But what we might have thought we already knew takes on more worrying dimensions as the story progresses. Because what the documentary masterfully does is not focus on our perspective (which we already know) but on the perspective of these pedophiles. And we discover this, precisely, through the testimony of one of them. His anonymity is preserved, by the way, without any sinister staging. A man hiding behind a glass screen, his voice distorted by AI without any shocking sounds, clarifying that he has served time in prison and is undergoing rehabilitation through a foundation specializing in pedophilia. "Many people think that posting a picture of their son or daughter at the beach or playing basketball is fine and nothing will happen. But an image that a person doesn't attach any importance to can be the best thing for a pedophile. If I have a brutal sexual desire at that moment and I feel like, speaking clearly about my mother, masturbating, yes, I do masturbate, physically I don't need to be naked." Social media is compared to an all-you-can-eat buffet where any image, no matter how innocent it may seem, serves to feed their sexual perversions. It's not about how we perceive it, but how pedophiles view and consume it. The choice of witnesses participating in the documentary is excellent. They all have a very well-defined role regarding what they must contribute to the story. It's not a simple dumping ground for statements. Beyond experts in different fields linked to both the digital world and human behavior, the documentary uses the figure of the influencers professionals to test them and conduct an empirical exercise: confronting them with the reality of the data they reveal about their children without realizing it, and the risks to which they expose the children. And the result is sensational, even demonstrating the defensive behavior they adopt and how they enter a phase of denial that, for the viewer, can no longer be rejected.

On Tuesday the Non-fiction It took us into a historical tragedy well-known in the world of motorsports, but one that hides many other perspectives. Seventy years ago, in the world's most famous endurance race, the 24 Hours of Le Mans, a Mercedes driven by Pierre Levegh took off from the track and exploded into the spectator stands at over 250 kilometers per hour. There were 82 deaths and 120 injuries. Le Mans, the tragedy of 55 It's a documentary in which director Emmanuel Reyé investigates this disaster, motivated by family secrecy. Two of his uncles, whom he never met, died in the accident. They were his father's brothers. His grandfather and another brother were saved because they had just happened to be leaving the stands. Reyé learned of this trauma when he was 17, through an acquaintance. It was never discussed at home, a result of the immense pain they carried. Decades later, driven by the need to discover what lay behind that silence and understand what happened, he began to reconstruct the case. He did so with an added difficulty: the reluctance of archives and administrations to provide the information they hold.

Blank plate, the documentary that aired on Nights without fiction On Tuesday night on TV3, the show showcased the work and obsession that goes into haute cuisine through the Disfrutar restaurant. This isn't new on television. Starting with the media star Ferran Adrià and continuing with all the chefs. crashed that has taken place in Catalonia, we viewers are quite experienced in the dynamics of this ultra-demanding nature of the most prestigious and elaborate cuisine. Ferran Adrià, as the forger of a certain DNA, served as a narrative endorsement to accredit the legacy left behind by his three disciples and protagonists. Mateu Casañas, Oriol Castro, and Eduard Xatruch generously expose themselves in front of the cameras, to the point of including a domestic fatality in the restaurant. We viewers witness a sewage system breakdown that causes a backup in one of the toilets, forcing the staff to reorganize to fix it. This debacle, uncomfortable and unsightly in a luxury restaurant, breaks with this epic narrative about gastronomic perfection.

Fúlvia Nicolàs has directed a Non-fiction, 'Mae' means 'mother' about the experience of three sisters who were adopted in Brazil by a Catalan couple. According to Fúlvia, the three girls—the oldest being nine years old—were "disoriented and sad" because, they explain, they had "lost everything we knew and loved." Their biological mother, addicted to drugs, left the girls in an orphanage "until she was in a position to recover them." But, writes Fulvia, "social services had other plans."

Tuesday night's television on TV3 was impressive. Non-fiction were very impressive. The first one was not suitable for claustrophobics. Luckily, in Trapped. Three days at the bottom of the Atlantic (Trapped in 102 feet of water), the protagonists themselves tell you their story, and so it was immediately obvious that everything had ended well. But even so, there were times when it became very difficult to bear the account of an unexpected and incredible rescue. The documentary tells the story of a team of divers who, while working on an offshore platform in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, were urgently called to recover the bodies of thirteen sailors who had died in the sinking of a fishing boat. What they didn't imagine was that one of them had survived, trapped inside the ship, at the bottom of the sea. The images of the rescue process are real because the divers recorded the entire operation inside the boat. Recordings of the communications the team of professionals maintained with each other to coordinate their work are also used. The script reconstructs the epic story in parallel from two points of view: that of the castaway and that of the divers. Only those who can endure such distressing images will be rewarded with an outcome far more beautiful and comforting than mere survival.