
Fortwominutes,allweseearecalves,barefeetandasphalt.Everytimeafoothitstheground,itmakesaslappingsound,accompaniedbytherunner’srapidbreathing.Therhythmissteady,andyetthereisanurgencytotheshot.<br/> TherunnerisFélixBruzzone,awriterwholivesneartheCampodeMayomilitarybaseontheoutskirtsofBuenosAires.HisresearchandexperiencesserveasthebasisforJonathanPerel’sfilmCamuflaje.Heexplainswhatdriveshiminvoice-over:hismotherwasdisappearedbythemilitarywhenhewasaninfant.ItwasonlyafterpurchasingapropertyclosetoCampodeMayothathelearntthatshealsodiedthere.<br/> Whatshouldbedonewiththiswastelandonwhichthemilitarykilleditsopponents45yearsago?Bruzzonespeakswiththosewholiveintheareainaseriesofstagedencounters.Anestateagentgushesovertheriseinpropertyvalues,arun-inwithsoldiersturnsoutbetterthanexpected,asurvivorofthecampdescribeshowmuchresistanceshefacedintryingtoerectamemorial,tosaynothingofadocumentationcentre.Bruzzonekeepsonrunning,tirelessly.

