'Forever' or the portrait of a family that doesn't know how to communicate

Forever Aitor Matauco

The company Kulunka Teatro closes the trilogy presented within the framework of Grec 2026 with its multi-award-winning 'Forever', a story of gestural theater and masks.

01 august of 2026 at 07:21h

This year, the Teatre Condal wanted to pay tribute to the Basque company Kulunka Teatro during the Grec Festival of Barcelona. And it has done so by programming three of its theatrical pieces that are characterized by a unique and very identifiable style: the use of masks and the absolute absence of words. A gestural theater, where mime and scene changes tell us a story so human and so profound that it does not require text.  

On the stage of the Paral·lel theater, we have been able to enjoy André y Dorine, Solitudes and, now, Forever, a work that follows the same path as the previous ones: telling a story about the intimacy of a family, their love, their pain and their struggle. This show has won a large number of awards such as the Max Award 2024 for Best Direction and the Award for Best Authorship or the Talía Award 2024 for Best Show.  

The decline of a family and the prevalence of love  

Forever is a harsh and beautiful work. It is a work that begins by telling a love story and ends with a story of absolute horror. But, no matter how much horror there is, love is always present: in a look, in a kiss, in a caress on the hand. And that is the most powerful thing about Kulunka Teatro: it presents human beings in a natural way, without artifice, without shields or fears; people who feel, who love and who are vulnerable to emotions.  

And Forever, despite being one of the company's most painful works, continues to have this song of hope and love. The story begins with a young couple who, newly married, decide it's time to try for a baby. But the search will not be so easy: the longed-for child takes time to arrive and the couple begins to distance themselves slightly in the face of this first difficulty they have to face as a marriage. Finally, the child arrives, although life serves them another stone: he is born with a physical disability that, although not incapacitating, will make the parents much more devoted to the child's care.  

Little by little, we see how the family evolves in this new reality. The parents, very attentive to their son's well-being, shower him with attention, kisses, and care. A type of overprotective education that becomes evident when the son reaches adolescence and begins to ask for a bit of privacy and independence. This is when the family begins to experience its first rupture: the parents, devoted to their son, abandon their relationship, and it begins to deteriorate. The son, for his part, begins to suffer bullying at school and takes refuge in video games full of blood and violence.  

The son and video games. ©Aitor Matauco 

A story narrated with a very cinematic style 

In Forever, we find ourselves before a story with a great quantity of details, scenes, moments that explain a lot, without even needing to perform any action. This is because the proposal draws heavily from cinematic language: thanks to the set design by Javier Ruiz de Alegría and Ikerne Giménez, as well as the revolving platform, we move through the different rooms of the house. We sneak into the son's room, the couple's bedroom, and the living room to "spy" on the characters as they live in their intimacy. 

The platform rotates and stops when a scene is to be explained. But there are also moments where it keeps moving and the actors move through the different spaces, making the audience feel like they are watching a cinematic long take. All of this contributes to giving rhythm to the proposal, as well as a more kaleidoscopic vision of this family's daily life. The stage thus becomes the very wheel of life, but also a spiral that swallows the protagonists, traps them, and does not squeeze them.

 

Lack of communication within a family 

The main problem we see in the family of Forever is that, no matter how hard they try, the characters do not know how to communicate. The problems of each of them, their fears, their family conflicts, or their shame make them not understand each other and, in the end, this lack of communication is the detonator of the final outburst. 

In this sense, there is a very significant scene that reflects the problems that can arise in a couple when there are communication errors. The marriage, totally devoted to the education and well-being of their child, has completely abandoned themselves. Intimate relations between them are conspicuous by their absence and, at one point, the father finds the mother watching an erotic film on their child's mobile phone.

She is watching it by accident, but he believes it could be a new way to try to reconnect in bed. When the proposal arises at night, the discussion is definitive and the couple, instead of communicating and facing the problem before them, decides to separate due to lack of understanding. And, in reality, the only thing beating there was love because he was only trying to get closer and please her with her supposed "new tastes". 

The marriage's bedroom. ©Aitor Matauco 

Can love conquer all? 

The presence of love is constant throughout the entire proposal. From the first scene, we see this feeling materialized in a cushion in the shape of a heart that she gives him for his anniversary. Throughout the play, this heart deteriorates, just as love does within these four walls. She, in a desperate moment, sews it and tries to repair it, but instead of a heart, it looks like something amorphous, strange, and a little terrifying. 

We see love greatly enhanced, especially, in the figure of the child: they shower him with kisses, attention, care... The couple's love wears out, but the child's love remains. Even when the child hurts, wounds, and mistreats, love is still there, standing. Although, yes: now the heart is a little more broken.

This is the question that seems to be thrown at us from the stage: can love really conquer all? Or, even better: should love be able to conquer all, or should we learn to "let go" of that damaged cushion and give ourselves a new opportunity? This Forever indicated by the title makes us rethink the background of the story: does (or should) a "forever" exist? 

The authorship and dramaturgy are by Iñaki Rikarte, José Dault, Garbiñe Insausti and Edu Cárcamo. Without words or text, a dramaturgy based on actions and photographs is constructed. José Dault, Garbiñe Insausti and Edu Cárcamo are the performers of the proposal, an immense acting work that, with gestures and pure body expression, are capable of making us enter the journey through the different stages of a family's life: we laugh with them, we get emotional with them and, above all, we cry with them.

Because the story they tell is such a profoundly human story that it is impossible to look away.

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