Two silent men transport a sacred vessel across the Mexican desert while a ruthless enforcer pursues them to reclaim it.

Anabios is a striking experimental short that unfolds like a modern myth carved into the landscape of the Mexican desert. The film follows two silent men tasked with transporting a sacred vessel across a hostile terrain, their journey shadowed by a relentless enforcer determined to reclaim it. Sparse in dialogue but rich in atmosphere, the story leans into symbolism and movement, allowing the environment and performances to guide the narrative forward.

Blending narrative storytelling with live musical performances, Anabios transforms its pursuit into something more ritualistic than literal. As the journey progresses, the desert becomes a stage for cycles of violence, transformation, and rebirth. The film embraces mood and mythology over exposition, creating a hypnotic experience where sound, image, and motion merge into a haunting passage through the timeless themes of sacrifice and renewal.

Anabios unfolds like a myth in motion, with two silent figures carrying a sacred vessel across a hostile landscape. What was the original spark behind this story and its symbolic journey?

Starting point was the music. Together with the label Hajime, we had the idea to create a visual film inspired by their upcoming album. The sound has a very strong atmosphere on its own, and when I first heard the tracks, they immediately began bringing images and scenes to my mind.

The film relies heavily on imagery and movement rather than dialogue or exposition. How did you approach building a narrative that audiences could feel rather than simply understand?

The idea was to create a world rather than tell a direct story. This world should never feel completely whole so that everyone can experience it differently and find their own way through it. Instead of relying on dialogue, I focused on building through images, movement and metaphors. My goal was to have viewers build their own interpretation of what they’re seeing while guiding the narrative by building a sense of beginning, middle and end. I also wanted the world to feel grounded and real, while at the same time allowing traces of mythology and mysticism to exist within it.

Myth and ritual seem central to the film’s language. Were there particular myths, cultural traditions, or archetypes that influenced the world of Anabios?

A major influence was the Mesoamerican myth of Quetzalcoatl, who descends into the underworld to recover the bones of previous generations. We weren’t interested in recreating the myth directly. Instead, its themes — death, ritual, and renewal — became a foundation for the film’s symbolic language. The story functions more like a reinterpretation of that myth rather than a literal retelling.

The cinematography is striking, with fluid camera movement and dramatic environments. How did you and your cinematographer design the visual language to support the film’s mythic tone?

I had the opportunity to work with cinematographer Mario Kim, who played a key role in shaping the visual language of the film. Mario joined the process early in development and contributed many ideas that informed the overall approach.

The visual style was built around restraint and simplicity. We wanted the world to feel believable, so we relied on minimalism in framing and camera movement, and used mostly natural or motivated lighting to keep the environments authentic. In the more intense moments, we leaned into longer lenses and a slightly more dynamic camera approach, which made the frame feel denser and heightened the tension.

The landscapes themselves feel almost like characters. How important was location in shaping the atmosphere and emotional weight of the journey?

Location was essential. Once we chose Mexico, the landscapes themselves began shaping the visual identity of the film. The desert environments feel both ancient and timeless, which naturally supports the mythological tone of the story. Instead of building a world artificially, we tried to find places that already carried that sense of history and symbolism.

The visual effects are seamlessly integrated into the film’s world. How did VFX help expand the sense of scale and mysticism without overwhelming the grounded physical elements?

While there are some heavy VFX moments in the film, our goal was always to keep them subtle. We used VFX to enhance certain scenes so that the mythical elements of the world feel like they exist somewhere very close to reality.

Violence and ritual seem to merge into a cycle of death and rebirth throughout the story. What ideas were you exploring through that recurring transformation?

Many mythologies are built around cycles — the end leads to new beginning. In Anabios, violence and ritual become part of that same cycle. The story isn’t about a single event but about transformation, and the idea that something new often emerges from moments of collapse.

When viewers finish Anabios, what feeling or interpretation do you hope lingers with them about the film’s cycle of destruction and renewal?

I hope the film creates a sense of mystery. The intention was to create an experience that stays with viewers both visually and emotionally, allowing them to interpret the journey in their own way.

What are the books, podcasts or even YouTube Channel that you recommend young filmmakers to get their hands on?

It’s different for everyone, but I think inspiration often comes from outside cinema itself. Mythology, music, and history can shape ideas in unexpected ways. I’d recommend diving deep into the things you genuinely enjoy across different mediums — that’s often where the best ideas come from. As for something specific to watch, there are many great resources, but one thing that comes to mind is behind-the-scenes documentaries. There’s a beautiful 8-hour documentary about the making of Harry Potter that includes interviews with almost every department. Even though the industry keeps changing and some things become outdated, there’s still a huge amount of valuable insight into how great films are made. I’d also recommend watching interviews with Roger Deakins and exploring his online forum — it’s an incredible place with a lot of practical knowledge about cinematography and filmmaking in general.

Can you share with us some of your favorite short films you’ve seen lately?

I’ve always been a big fan of Pixar’s short films. I think they’re classics and some of the best examples of storytelling in a short format. From the more recent ones, I really enjoyed a short by Sebastian López called That’s AI. It’s a really interesting and funny piece that stood out to me.