
Everyone in Marco's life seems constantly restless, from his brilliant but unhappily married parents to his own wife Marina, or even Luisa, the real love of his life, a girl he met during a fateful summer in the '70s and always stayed in touch with. Tragedy and fate seem to haunt him, yet he somehow manages never to get ensnared in the chaos—like his namesake, “the hummingbird”, he focuses all his energy at standing still.
A tender, melancholic exploration of enduring connection and the quiet ache of what might have been. It feels like a cherished memory, bittersweet and deeply felt, lingering long after the credits roll.

















