Night vision is one of the pieces that competes in the Horizontes latino section. And I say the piece, because the director has defined his work as a kaleidoscope, as a device that allows you to see the different fragmented shapes looking at the light. It is not a vain metaphor, as the director makes a film about the rape he suffered through the fragmentation of the wounds.

The film shows that in its first lines it will make use of three lights: one that seduces, the other that is so dark that it doesn't show anything, and the other that obscures. The story will be built through these lights, in which the materials with which it counts to show the sexual assault suffered will be classified. The file contains judicial papers and medical reports, but also rituals, relationships with friends, swimming seals and plucked birds. Each one of them is related to Moscoso's experiences and contributes in different ways to overcoming the situation. The tone is never victimized, but to try to be empowered by events. The author is aware of the need for grief, and when the court runs out, the lawyer tells him: -You will have to find another way to close an event. That's the answer, this thin sensitivity film, which leads you to cry and laugh, and which has found its own language for grieving. The one that has moved me the most, certainly, among those I have seen so far.

Stephanie (Belgium), 11, is the girl who has just won the first international title of the race. A work by its director, Leonardo van Dijl, will seek that the pressure that the world of the girl child exerts on her makes the viewer feel the same insofar as he tries to. The short film depicts the girl's championship and the afternoon it followed, the relationship it has with the coach and the competition with other athletes.

The tension of the girl is transmitted through closed planes, and the story has been brought with very few words. Stephanie lies about her foot injury so she can go to the championship and win the medal. The trainer doesn't know how much more he can ask for and the doctor asks for resonance. Meanwhile, at the medal party and meeting people, they're waiting for you. Seeing that the road has only just begun, the situation seems to be going to overflow. A good job in the world of film, short and that leaves you wanting more.

The fourth day was for A metamorfose dos pássaros, of Zabaltegi-Tabakalera, which was presented in Bilbao. Catarina is the first feature of the Portuguese film Vasconcelos, which tells the story of an entire family pulling the thread from which his grandmother was. Grandma raised her children while her grandfather was waiting, and the exchange of correspondence between them maintained her desire and her common project. The letter written in water and on land was burned once by his grandfather, and from that void Vasconcelos left in search of a story he did not know.

In the presentation, Victor Iriarte defined it as "spoken film," and from there he has his work, which even becomes an overdose of words. About the images made in the film, a continuous off voice is heard in Portuguese that reports several memories in melancholy tone. The construction of the images is very beautiful, beautiful, so beautiful that we feel outside of it, expelled. What is said is poetic, mistress of fat words, full of metaphors. The union of both has a risk and is the creation of an intangible work. The public awaits a gesture, the gaze of a travesura, waiting for an error. Let it fall. But it doesn't come. The personal grief for the director does not count on the help of the one who is watching in the action, he does not get the other to participate. He who looks stares. I think we have to go a step further to get the viewer to move from their place, and maybe the cinema will get a grief that outweighs the author, in which one is a participant and a sufferer of something bigger. It is up to us to make this power possible.