Canción sin nombre

Black and white was a sensible choice for this film, as the two conflicts are basic, not needing colors to distract from the main characters and themes.

An indigenous woman goes to a "Free" Clinic to give birth to her baby. The baby is taken by the medical staff - we see the nurse remove the child in a blur - we never see the child.

A reporter investigates the young woman's story, as authorities will not be bothered. They barely acknowledge her or her husband's presence, when they try to maneuver the bureaucratic labyrinth.

The character Georgina is engaging, and the minimal dialogue with her husband reflects the simplicity of their life, their relationship. They are equally stunned and helpless in the situation. However Georgina evolves emotionally, while her husband goes another way.

The storyline about the reporter was interesting, and reflected his frustration with the things beyond his control - govt corruption and threats to his sexual preference.

All in all, an engaging movie based on a tragic, true story.

Elegantly directed in B&W square format with an elegiac style that mixes Theo Angelopoulos' static poetry with Alfonso Cuarón's shifting landscapes (particularly those of Roma), Song Without a Name unfolds three parallel plots: the kidnapping of Georgina's baby, Pedro's homosexual affair with Isa, and the burgeoning terrorism in late 1980s Peru (in which Georgina's husband is involved). What unites the three stories is Peru itself and its internal conflicts, amid which the protagonists find themselves cast away.