Cinema made out of the minimum and essential: light, its projection and a violated media (black film obtained from processing unexposed colour footage). After "Cada cuatro fotogramas" (Every four frames), the approach to 'negative' filmmaking continues, building by demolition, the film showing us what survives the physical removal of any of its parts. The image is made of points of light on the verge of disintegration, holes that pierce a surface, the celluloid, giving us a compulsive drip of frayed forms that will make us think of the outbreak of the screen. The sounds of Mattin, cracked, shrill, lacerating trebles, stick to the images with a maximum relevance. From the first frame, the frontality of the movie avoids complacencies of any kind with the viewer, forcing him to question the resistance of his listening and his eyes.