An essay on the fragments of a Mexican film made in the shadow of other films – in this case, the shadow cast by the contemporary genre of “narco” crime fictions that mystify the corrupt workings of corporations and the state. What can be conveyed by political cinema when the truth is so ruthlessly “screened out” by mainstream media? Significant landscapes, a suspiciously empty hotel, a mysterious onlooker who demands to act in Pereda’s project but without his voice heard: only these apparently mute signs can hint at the hidden complexities of power, wealth and influence. (Adrian Martin)