Time is consumed. Yet, it leaves visible traces. Sometimes it is dust on surfaces, scars, or wrinkles on the body. Others, hidden, like experience, are echoes of a past that is prolonged. We have an imaginary tape that rewinds to return to what has been lived. “Time is a construction of the intellect,” says Jorge in No son horas de olvidar (2020), by David Castañón Medina, who witnesses the effects of Alzheimer’s on Juana, his partner. They are a peculiar couple: As Chilean exiles in Mexico they have faced losing their roots more than once. With keen metaphors, like the threshold, the window, the corridor, and the hallway, created in collaboration with cinematographer Jessica Villamil, Castañón Medina’s documentary looks poetically into the abyss of the loss of identity and the pain of oblivion that films such as Sarah Polley´s Away from Her (2006) and Wash Westmoreland´s Still Alice (2014), starring Julianne Moore, have also explored. Review by: Carlos Rodríguez