The film is based on the material filmed by the director's grandfather in the terrible days of the outbreak of the Bogotazo (to understand us, and saving all distances, something like the Civil War for the Spanish), some images that by themselves justify the existence of the documentary, and that at some point they come to shudder. The horrible night ceased (title extracted from the Colombian national anthem) manages to catch the viewer with his warm portrait of the figure of the father and, above all, his remarkable ability to evoke a seemingly idyllic but that ends up revealing in his interior an uncontainable fury and destructive Frankly, we thought that this documentary essay would take some prize, and we are sure that it will be like this in the near future, because it has something, in its images and in the way of treating them, that remains in the memory.
