This meditation on the collective traumatic memory of Pinochet's dictatorship is told through the narration of a documentary maker, and their imagined dialogue with The Man Who Tortured People - a member of the secret police. The threat of state violence runs throughout, as acts of torture merge into the everyday. This stark read blends fact with poetry to push into disturbing psychological spaces that museums and archives cannot reach.
I think I see a woman spying from the house across the street. She peers out, hiding behind the curtain. Or maybe she's not hiding, and instead she stares openly as she waters the plants in her front yard. I imagine her and others like her watching the activity at this place day after day, as surprise turns to familiarity. The cries from torture sessions coexisting with the music on neighbourhood radios, dialogue from the 3pm soaps, the announcer's voice on the broadcast of the football match. The prisoners going in and out of this gate became part of the landscape.
