An experimental documentary about a family's loss of a child and the struggle between remembrance and forgetting. The film explores the cultural differences between a North American mother and a Mexican father in the face of death.

Somewhere in Mexico, an opulent cemetery full of palatial mausoleums is growing by the day. The speed of expansion parallels the number of liquidations perpetrated by rival drug gangs in the area. A continual stream of notorious drug lords are buried here just as they lived, with pomp and ceremony - in marble buildings hung with chandeliers and portrait photos - and with machine guns and music. Their young widows and small children can be found there every day. Night watchman Martin looks after the site with two trusty dogs at his side. With the coming of each new day, family members arrive to tend to their loved ones' luxurious mausoleums, and construction workers race to build new ones. In the background, weeping mothers bury their sons who have died violent deaths. In this subdued film, which is entirely bereft of the violence at its core, the camera takes in Martin's almost serene days and nights in cinema verité style. News about the violent cartel wars on Martin's television and the coconut drink salesman's radio provide a clear context for this cemetery under construction. The sense of calm that reigns here contrasts increasingly sharply with the explosive epidemic of violence that can spread so easily in Mexico.

A mother wonders, will my children love their perfect machines more than they love me, their imperfect mother? She switches on a smart-crib lulling her crying baby to sleep. This perfect mother is everywhere. She watches over us, takes care of us. We listen to her. We trust her.

Past and present collide as filmmaker Natalia Almada brings to life audio recordings she inherited about her great-grandfather, General Plutarco Elías Calles, a revolutionary general who became president of Mexico in 1924. Time is blurred in this visually arresting portrait of a family and country living under the shadows of the past.

For 35 years Doña Flor has worked as a clerk in a government office. Each day she attends dozens of people who sit across from her and hand her their documents. For 35 years she has been invisible to these people, a mere cog in the machine. She has grown so accustomed to this invisibility that she seems to have become invisible even to herself except for the brief pause at the pool each day where she watches the children swim and remembers her daughter. One morning Doña Flor awakens to find her cat has died in the night. Unable to accept the loss of her sole companion, Doña Flor tries to continue her routine as always, but the loss opens up the much deeper wound left by the downing of her daughter. She decides to swim seeking solace in the water, but finds herself paralyzed by fear. As Doña Flor faces her fear of the water, she faces her of life. One day in the shower room another woman unexpectedly washes her back in a simple gesture of compassion that resuscitates her. "Everything Else" is a poetic and lyrical story about a woman's second coming of age as she reawakens to her self at sixty-three.