Surire

Set in the Surire Salt Flat in the high desert of Chile, this often mesmerizing documentary serves up a fever-dream study of old and new worlds on the country's border with Bolivia. The Chilean side is a UNESCO biosphere reserve in which flamingos, rheas, some sort of jackrabbit, and other exotic animals pass before the camera. On the other is a borax mining operation that leaves the land bald, constantly assaulted by earth movers and trucks. The entire region shared by the two countries spreads endlessly—as far as the eye can see—and filmmakers Bettina Perut and Ivan Osnovikoff present it through lengthy scenes with no cuts. Flattened by the enormous distance, these images effectively reveal the scale in which life and activity play out: the mining vehicles look tiny, almost alien, while desert creatures parade through waves of rising heat. Above all are the miniscule human subjects, elderly members of the Aymara who walk the crooked dusty paths to find wood for burning or to watch the miners. The local Aymara are reportedly roughly 2,000 in number, living quite remotely while shepherding their llamas and barely surviving in stone and stucco huts. When an invitation comes for two Aymara to join an elder's council on New Year's Day in Putre, Chile, the subsequent effort to compensate a Bolivian boy for looking after their llamas adds a ripple of drama. Surire reminds us that there is so much otherworldliness in this world we think we know—it captures a haunting landscape filled with strange beauty and mystery. Recommended. Aud: C, P. (T. Keogh)