Just as it happens in poetry, the musical quality of words and their power for evocation constitute an open meaning, suggestions of a language no longer functioning as a tool but as an aesthetic element per se. To tell a story is not the point, but rather to cause visions and feelings to arise through words. And that’s precisely what happens in La casa, the closing film of a trilogy (together with El árbol and Elegía de abril) where Gustavo Fontán records his parents’ house at Banfield, in the south of the Metropolitan Area of Buenos Aires. Here, the challenge is to find a set of mysterious and beautiful images, as well as a flawless sound design, which function as a poetic exploration of those furnishings about to be demolished. Fontán understands that a family history is still sheltered by that loving atmosphere made of bricks and tries to capture the passing of time and the physical evidences of those who lived there with his camera. Objects, rooms, windows, hallways are filmed as living entities, as material ghosts who guard a family tale. At some points we see a family reunion as if we were in a spiritualist channeling session and the camera was the medium, creating a unique and extraordinary moment. The last ten minutes of the film are painful, showing the end of this metaphysics of the space. Cranes smash down everything and scattered remains are seen as a destiny. Not only humans and animals die. Finitude is the final evidence.