Gustavo Fontán made a film with a title which could remind us of a possible treaty on man’s dignity according to Levinas, a philosopher obsessed with the faces of those creatures who share the gift of talking. And though the camera undoubtedly registers the dignity of those men it films, El rostro has nothing to do with a philosophical endeavor. This is an entirely poetical film, as most of this di- rector’s mature films; and faces arrive late to the gravity center of the movie —faces of children, women, and also of men, probably fisher-men. Meanwhile, nature imposes itself; especially the river, which seems to push the camera so it flows through an ecosystem as if this registering device were a mechanic animal trying to merge into everything around it. What is there to be filmed, then? Living entities —the river, animals, trees, those men who play themselves in a completely democratic manner. El rostro is a film without narration where images are elegantly linked, as the dream of an intensely spiritual dreamer, a poetic trance made with images and sounds. Whoever allows himself to transform what is being seen and heard into an experience will no longer be the same —at least for an hour. And that is what, up to a point, defines Fontán’s films; they are a holistic modulation of sensitivity.