Cicadas and birdsong, a black screen, the jungle floor coming into view at the start of day. A leisurely tracking shot: roots, moss, a metal chain, a sleeping man shackled, hands clasped together, feet caked in mud. A silent captive whose captors’ faces remain unseen, a daily routine in the forest as helicopters rumble above.
Pleasurable moans in a dark bedroom, a white curtain with black flowers that keeps out the morning light. A teenager making his way through the city, CV in hand, the camera his constant companion: bustling streets, bright colours, huge intersections, a skate park. But he only finds a job in the countryside.
A shower first thing, water droplets on broad shoulders, a trip to a hardware store before work. A man most at home in military gear, eating in silence at the top table, a 360-degree pan surveying his chatting subordinates. Will the new recruits be up to the task?
Jorge Forero’s stunning debut exudes a quiet confidence, content to let the links between these oblique episodes emerge steadily and organically: one day, three men, three different settings, the all-pervading violence that envelopes Colombia their inexorable connective tissue.