Tadu Baki enters the jungle. He emerges as a walker who, unflappable, follows his path with his back to us – or rather, facing his way. It is a jungle-vision, non-existent such as the interiors that complete the movie’s ending. That which the directors name “impossible space”, a place that is not contextualized, and it is thus because it combines things that are, from the start, impossible to combine. And if the place appears out of time and space, Tadu Baki is also far from being named: we don’t know who he is, just that he walks. At a certain point, a zoom-in, and Tadu Baki slightly turns his head towards his shoulders, without, however, facing us yet. It is a rupture with any kind of distance. After all, the camera is a specter, and Tadu Baki senses it. Now this is his time, and that is the perfect image of what has been forgotten, but still remembered as a sensation. And that is no different than the final sequence, in a space even less knowable than the previous one, revealed and concealed by the light in a game of (in)visibilities, and where the spatial change magically takes place, without us ever having access to that “something” that causes it. (RiM)