Are you saying I could pull a ‘Jesus’ at low tide? I’m not that clever, but I could drink wine, eat crackers, and fake it.
Spare and never less than engaging, Aitzol Saratxaga’s Spanish-language period drama is rife with antagonistic paranoia and raised voices in a sanctum where hushed tones are not only expected, but commanded. Ambiguity is key to the mystery of the strange, perhaps supernatural disappearance of the local, much-admired priest. There’s a low-ebb aura of sorrow and anxiety as two very different priests investigate and admonish the combative villagers for their opaque mutterings of hares and transformation. Ernesto Báez’ moody photography…
