A few objects and four actors on stage. Sombras, por supuesto ('Shadows, of course') begins when two unlikely police officers arrive at a couple’s house to investigate the disappearance of their son. On the edge between stark reality and luminous absurdity, their dialogues weave a fascinating story. Like a shadow, it invites us to follow but it eludes capture. The conversations take unexpected turns: the right to withdraw from society, the meaning of parenthood, or even the police officer’s supposed ability to act as a medium and connect with the disappeared.

While the desaparecidos are often associated with the era of the Argentinian dictatorship, Romina Paula references two recent cases of police violence and disappearance. Is the figure of a medium perhaps a metaphor for a police force that knows more than it reveals to society? Every line is brought to life by actors who shift between gripping naturalism and absurdity, verging on parody. The characters seem to feel a perpetual need to distance themselves from reality. Maybe, beneath the surface of their lives, each one silently wrestles with shadows—unspoken struggles and unresolved truths. With grace and poetry, Sombras, por supuesto guides us through the shadows that might exist within each of us.

"There is an awareness that fills each story with melancholy that, without betraying the sometimes sparse tone of the staging, humanises the characters, exposing them as vulnerable and aware of the need to reflect on what happens to them." - Ezequiel Obregón, 2024, Fervor