previously published on Cineuropa
There is nothing civil about civil war. The longer it takes and the bloodier it gets, its consequences only get more dire. The one that happened in Colombia from 1962 (it officially ended in 2016 but actually had a low-intensity, asymmetric reboot in 2018) claimed hundreds of thousands of victims, while affecting millions more individual destinies by, for instance, tearing families apart. The Colombian civil war and its consequences form the background of César Augusto Acevedo’s sophomore feature-length directorial effort, Horizonte, which has just premiered at the Toronto Film Festival, in the Discovery section.
However, Horizonte could not be described as a typical war movie, let alone a typically naturalistic one. On the contrary, it is a slightly supernatural, philosophical and metaphysical drama with horror elements. As such – and coming from the filmmaker who gained a lot of attention with his debut feature Land and Shade (2015) which scooped at least a dozen festival awards, including the Caméra d’Or at its premiere at Cannes – it seems destined for further festival exposure and maybe even a niche distribution in arthouse theatres.
We meet our protagonist, Basilio (Claudio Cataño) while walking down the alleys in a graveyard, looking for his mother, Iñes Soto. He eventually finds her in a humble house across a large field whose green colour stands in a stark contrast with the blue-grey sky, but she does not recognise him, since he does not sound anything like the son she claims to have lost years ago. There is a convincing explanation for that: they are both restless ghosts who ended their earthly lives at different times and on different sides of the war, losing touch long before that. She remained faithful to her humane nature, while he became a soldier in order to survive. Finally, Iñes (Chilean actress Paulina García, of Sebastián Lelio's 2013 Gloria fame) joins Basilio on his search for redemption, and the road leads them across the realm to his memories where he faces his victims, friends and tormentors once again, but also the man he has become.
Loose in its structure, Horizonte often jumps between time frames, which is how memories and reflection actually work. Its dark dream logic and magical realism are complemented with equally sinister and minimal production design (courtesy of Marcela Gómez Montoya), enhanced only by the measured, well-timed use of visual effects. There is a note of elegance in Mateo Guzmán Sánchez’ cinematography that is often drenched in fog, which is an apt metaphor for both the war and the memories of it, especially when it comes to rotating movements in long takes, while the fading out of the characters from scenes is also a nice touch by editors Soledad Salfate and Camila Beltrán. This gritty but tense visual style is accompanied by an equally impressive soundscape, thanks mainly to the original score by Harry Allouche. The biggest challenge is laid upon the leading duo of actors, given that Acevedo’s script often presents them with long monologues, but their line delivery is inch-perfect, without even a hint at theatrics.
Horizonte is an unpleasant, slow and painful experience but for all the right reasons, since the road to redemption is never an easy one to take, especially after a lifetime of inhuman acts. However, it is a masterfully made film that leaves the viewer with a lasting impression and serves as a second step in César Augusto Acevedo’s filmmaking career that we've been waiting and hoping for for a long time.