The fine line separating detachment and connection is but one of the themes on the mind of José Luis Guerín's intricately designed IN THE CITY OF SYLVIA, a film wherein said line is drawn so thin as that between passion and obsession. It could be argued that these films are never as soundly presented than in the extended stay at a cafe that eases the viewer into the film, our nameless dude (Xavier Lafitte) taking seat there alone and preferring to draw the women around him as opposed to actually communicating with them. In this sublimely shot scene, people sat meters across the outdoor seating arrangement might appear to be communicating, be it through shots that have them seeming to whisper into each other's ear or those that create an illusion of eye contact. Among them is the example of woman our guy might have been looking for, his passive interest in the images (but not the sound, never the sound) that have surrounded him giving way to evident intrigue, attraction and - responding to her distressed facial expression - concern for the girl (Pilar Lopez de Ayala) he ultimately follows out of the initial setting and through the streets.

The long takes here are impressive, never moreso than those that put us imaginatively into the guy's shoes, tracking behind this woman as he steadily tries to muster the courage to call out what he suspects her name is: "Sylvia." Elsewhere, graffiti on the face of a wall ("Laure je T'aime") might more accurately hint at the feelings and notions our observer may never have been able to utter. The longer the tracking persists, the more we begin to question what we see (What if she turns around and locks eyes with him? Are they simply walking in a giant circle?), director Guerin intentionally allowing this minimalist action to sideline towards images of noted beauty more mainstream filmmaking might miss. Seventy-six minutes in comes the film's perfect marriage of its themes, embraces between couples in the street seeming to taunt the by-now crushed guy while Guerin stops to observe such simple sight as hair blowing gently in the breeze. An artistic expression rich in captivating location images and enriching, minimalist storytelling, IN THE CITY OF SYLVIA casts a certain kind of spell, sublimely capturing a sense of repressed feeling, inner turmoil and horrid disconnection. By the end, we're analyzing every image for the elusive Sylvia just as much as our shaggy-haired watchman is.