Pina

At its center is Pina, a 62-year-old lawyer who had to step away from her job after a moment of disorientation—an early sign of her progressing dementia. But Pina is determined to return. Her work was—still is—her life.

With fierce resolve, she plans to intercept her former colleague and surrogate daughter, Susan, during her daily lunchtime swim—armed with a perfectly rehearsed speech. But just before she leaves the house, Pina forgets everything she had planned. Instead, she begins to cook, almost trance-like. Only a note on her palm jogs her memory, and she rushes to the lake.

There, she meets Susan. The conversation starts off well, but when Pina forgets the key word in her plea, something inside her breaks. Susan, who has already sensed what’s going on, gently but firmly refuses Pina’s request to return to work. It’s a devastating blow.

But in a moment of raw vulnerability, Pina begins to quietly recite the opening lines of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights—her personal mantra, a source of strength. Susan realizes just how deeply Pina needs someone who won’t judge her, but simply be there. So she offers her hand—for one last swim challenge, a shared ritual, a symbol of enduring friendship.

“PINA” is a story of losing control—but also of inner strength. It’s a film about accepting the inevitable, and about how true friendship can remain when everything else begins to fade.