Afternoons of Solitude accomplishes something that seems almost impossible. Through its striking visual approach, director Albert Serra makes us experience another person’s emotions as if they were our own. This is not merely a film that stirs empathy; it is an immersive journey that allows us to feel, almost physically, the weight of absolute solitude. Standing alone in the center of the bullring, the matador is not simply confronting a bull; he is confronting his fears, his fragile humanity, his anguish, death itself, and the profound loneliness that comes with it.

What Serra achieves is a cinematic approach rarely seen in documentary filmmaking. There are no interviews, no narration, and no conventional devices typically used to shape a documentary. Instead, the camera remains intimately close to Andrés Roca Rey, the Peruvian bullfighter regarded as one of the leading figures in contemporary bullfighting. Afternoons of Solitude is built through silence, extended takes, and hypnotic close-ups. Serra refuses to explain or interpret this ancient ritual, immersing us instead in the matador’s physical, psychological, and emotional experience. The conversation begins only after the film ends: viewers are left either captivated by the ritual’s almost religious dimension or horrified by what they see as a cruel and barbaric practice.

What cannot be denied is the remarkable precision with which Afternoons of Solitude has been conceived. Its visual composition is masterful, and every shot draws us deeper into the terrifying solitude of a man who risks his life every time he enters the arena. The film invites us into a profoundly human experience while challenging us through the uncomfortable dialogue it provokes and the unflinching way it portrays one of the most controversial traditions of our time. Its visual power is so overwhelming that its images linger in the mind long after the credits roll.

Albert Serra has crafted a documentary that challenges narrative conventions by rejecting the traditional tools of the genre. As he moves away from the familiar, he discovers a singular cinematic voice that allows Afternoons of Solitude to transcend documentary filmmaking and emerge as a work that is at once bold, fascinating, and uncompromisingly radical. It is impossible to leave the film without reflecting on the fragility of life and the inescapable presence of death. Solitude, fear, pride, courage, madness, and recklessness all converge in a ritual that endures, even as millions of voices continue to condemn it.