You could ask yourself, who is that man? The man we hear about in, for example, 'The man who knew too much', 'The man who wasn't there' or the German one in 'Der Mann ohne Eigenschaften'? In this film by Sebastian Diaz Morales, it is 'The man with the bag' and, just as the men in those other stories, he is the man who is there so that we can identify with him. The man who embodies more than just himself, and who is usually the subject of the 'human condition'.
The wind is blowing hard and incessantly over the barren heights of Patagonia; the deserted landscape is merciless and, as if to emphasize this, a shining white line accentuates the unbelievably-shaped horizon. The man is wearing a raincoat and hat, and is running as if someone is on his tail, but what creature or idea is chasing him is hard to say. On and on he goes, stumbling over rocks and becoming entangled in barbed wire. Slowly but surely his luggage changes from a smart suitcase on wheels into a frayed bag holding the remains of a previous life. Two cameras register his flight, while two pianos are playing the ever-continuing story of his journey. In the centre of the image is the spot where there is a gap in the horizon, into which he sometimes partly disappears. If there are two worlds, two realities existing along side each other, then he is the man who is moving faultlessly to and fro from one to the other.