The film is reminiscent of a Herzog documentary, going off on tangents, making intriguing connections, and using poetic voiceover to muse upon the mysteries of history, memory, death and the universe. The cinematography is stunningly beautiful, especially when it focuses on the gorgeous light of the heavens or rays of sunlight. However, I wondered if some of the images were computer-generated. Still, it's a thoughtful, meditative and often sorrowful film that draws some intriguing parallels.

An extraordinary essay film less interested in facts and more interested in ideas, atmosphere, and the experience of life. The film deals in a central paradox: How can a place be at once so well-suited for examining the past (in the heavens and on earth), and yet be located in a country unwilling to deal with its own more recent, and tragic, past. Guzman's photography is exquisite. As one shot blends into the next through creative editing, the film's underlying humanism stands out all the more.

Pretty but dull. Astronomy and Pinochet's state terror are a real herring-with-whipped-cream choice for dual subjects for a documentary. It's remarkable how little Senor Guzman manages to say on two meaty subjects that's even remotely new or interesting. I cannot help but suspect that the Pinochet stuff was just thrown in there as some sort of emotional blackmail ("Like this movie or you're on HIS side"); let us not forget that the Commies piled up a lot more bodies than the right-wing guys did

Some interesting parts here and there but overall quite thin in substance, especially considering the topics.

An excellent movie and the best kind of cinematic essay.

A merging of two disparate themes that don't quite fit together.

"That rare documentary that's as thrilling as art as it is as reportage, a marvelously shaped thesis that's both disquieting and humbling." - Jesse Cataldo