Nostalgia de la luz [Bryan]

I saw an amazing movie last weekend, Nostalgia for the Light, a film by Patricio Guzmán. It is a heartfelt documentary, more of a reflective essay, really, than an informational film. It deals with the seemingly different activities occurring in Chile's Atacama desert. On the one hand, you have astronomers taking advantage of the dry conditions to observe the ancient light coming from distant galaxies; on the other hand, you have mothers of the political prisoners who were killed during the reign of dictator Augusto Pinochet, looking for the thousands of bodies that were dumped in the same desert some 35 years ago. The film attempts to make the connection between these activities, namely, that they are both exploring the past in a way that situates our identities in the present.

Some of the stories the film tells are simply amazing: A woman describing the moment when she realized that a foot that had been unearthed was her brother's foot, and that he was never coming back. A young mother, my age, describing how the authorities had many years ago forced her grandparents to choose between revealing the location of her parents or losing her -- forced to choose, in effect, between the life of their child and the life of their granddaughter.

It was the images, though, the stunning visuals, that really struck me: The pictures of a simple Chilean house representing the sleepy Santiago world before the dark political turmoil of the 1970s. The fading pictures of some of the prisoners, before they were prisoners, full of hope and naive confidence that they could change the world, now dead. The footage of bodies, partially mummified by the dry desert conditions, being unearthed from their mass graves, with expressions of horror still frozen in their faces.

A sad, beautiful, haunting, and thoughtful film. Highly recommended.