I like the camera work here, pursuing those lives on unusual angles, being blocked by obstacles, obfuscated by light and obscured by shadows, as if the point of view on the movie was one of a discreet ghost: hiding things and then focusing on powerful details.
The cold coloring reminded me of "21 grams" and that feeling was there all along, reinforced by the eventual clash of unsuspected characters and even on the first time a sketch of a song appears on the movie (the lonesome guitar chords), although here we don't get to see much of the surroundings, the birds, the wreckage, but relatable claustrophobic settings, from weary hallways and heavy bedrooms to one's escape through an extended submersion in a pool.
Something harsh is about to happen or is it that it already did? We don't know. We won't know it.
The cold colors in here and in a smaller amount the sparse music are where the "21 grams" both start and terminate. On that movie, we get some closure, although full of despair; the random encounters become meaningful ones. The story connects and instead of losings its poetic power to impress and stun us, it's rather the opposite: it flourishes, even though that flower is bound to death. It's nothing close to this heavy yet beautiful portrayal of life that "A Zona" ("Uprise", poorly translated) gives us. It gives us close to nothing.
The answers, naïvely I thought, would come along way down the road, but more than half a movie on, they didn't. And the truth is, they won't. As much as I've liked the camerawork, the photography (and I have to emphasize: for the first half or so of the movie; beyond that point, even this told me nothing), I wouldn't recommend this movie to anyone.
There are better portrayals of despair and loneliness out there.