A dream based enough in reality to feel relatable, yet also distant enough to maintain that dreamlike haze from each subject it surveys, Mariel Sosa’s Holadirio is many things, but most prevailingly, majestic. Much like a patchwork blanket, it’s woven quality carries the energy of an old handmade relic, each stitch telling a story of its own. Through a tapestry of emotionally driven stories, laced with folklore, Sosa’s short captivates with its enigmatic allure, leaving a lasting impression that is both profound and ineffable.

Desire, loss, love, youth, grief, mysticism – just some of the themes explored in the beautiful and culturally distinct setting of the film: Pozuzo, Peru. Serving as more than just a backdrop, the location assumes the role of a character in its own right within Sosa’s narrative. Describing herself as a filmmaker who digs and studies the roots of their protagonists, Sosa paints Pozuzo as “a hidden gem deep in the Peruvian forest, a place where German heritage mingles with indigenous culture in this fascinating clash of worlds”.

Choosing the location for her film because of a “fascination for Peruvian folklore and culture”, Sosa reveals that she “grew up on these wild bedtime stories—tales of fantastical creatures and surreal settings—that my family loved to share”. With these tales acting as a basis for her narrative, the writer/director set out to create a short that blurred “the lines between what’s real and what’s fantasy”, taking inspiration from “our ancestors, who believed in spirits living among us”.

Initially, Holadirio exudes a sense of bliss, conveyed through expansive long shots that unveil the breathtaking scenery, while intimate close-ups illuminate the bonds of friendship and the buds of romance. Exuding a sense of authenticity through its photography, its sound design suggests something quite different. There is an immediate tension between sound and image, with the score (at the start) indicating a magical element, way before anything out of the ordinary occurs.

Interpreting this as a lesson in attentive listening, as I did so, I learned that sound very much guides the dreaminess of this film. For instance, when a Twilight Zone-esque beat sounds when we see a horse for the first time after Freyson’s transition, it made me look differently at all the other animals in Holadirio. When a chicken appears with the young girl, I found myself questioning whether this is merely a bird or is it perhaps a manifestation of someone’s ancestral spirit.

As much as I am in awe of the masterful sound design in Holadirio, the imagery is also breathtaking, while the editing is vital in embedding a magic quality throughout the short. Speaking about the production, Sosa reveals that “despite the brevity of our film, we opted for a deliberate approach, favoring extended wide shots to unfold scenes and reveal important details”. Describing these “slow, lingering shots” as the “backbone of many pivotal moments in our story”, they work to blend character with scenery, again highlighting the uniqueness of the location. 

These long shots offer viewers a sense of autonomy, allowing them to engage with the film’s reality as they chose where to direct their gaze. Creating a “surrounding” means everything to realism in film, yet it also taps into the depths of our subconscious, where memories, dreams, and thoughts reside, impacting how we as viewers digest images. The awareness of our surroundings is guided here as we experience the long shots alongside a carefully constructed sound design that contrasts the natural world and our expectations. Director Sosa controls what we hear but doesn’t command what we look at, which allows a surreal way of seeing – and that is the beauty of Holadirio.

With such a distinct and memorable short, I feel genuinely excited to see what Mariel Sosa comes up with next.