For decades, Ruth has been waiting for the return of her twin sister, who left on a space mission. In a stream of thoughts suspended between memory, childhood, and absence, she recalls their secret game: whoever spots a yellow car first, wins. But in the silence of such a deep absence, the echo of that game turns into poetry, memory, and waiting.

DIRECTOR'S NOTES:
Yellow Liminal was born from the desire to bring together distant universes, a recurring thread in my previous work.
In this case, two twin sisters are separated by the vastness between Earth and the Cosmos: one remains on Earth, the other is on a space mission. They are also separated by time: Ruth, the protagonist, has aged as all of us do here on Earth, while her twin sister is in space, on a mission near a black hole, where time flows differently and aging slows down.
Just as distant are the styles I’ve chosen to bring together in this film: AI and celluloid film, two expressive languages at opposite ends of the spectrum, representing the different existences and essences of the two sisters.
Shooting on film, while deeply fascinating, involved greater risks and a much narrower margin for error than digital. Yet shooting digitally would have felt like a shortcut — a safety net that would have kept Yellow Liminal from reaching its full cinematic potential.
At the same time, I loved working with AI, especially now that it has forcefully entered our lives. I wanted the entire first part of the film to be built upon this tool. The use of AI to create the liminal imagery and the sound design that simulates the progressive aging of Ruth’s voice were not conceived as mere technical aids, but as essential narrative elements. These elements do not simply support the story, they tell it. They are an integral part of the film’s visual and sonic identity, actively contributing to its emotional and poetic universe.