1985, Buenos Aires’ José Borda Psychiatric Hospital, psychiatrist Dr. Julio Denis (Quinteros) encounters a mysterious patient seemingly materializing out of thin air, Rantes (Soto) claims to be the hologram of an extraterrestrial, embodying the human corporeality but not the capacity to feel.

Initially dismissing Rantes as either an authentic fruitcake or a smart aleck who is compos mentis but trying to outsmart the authority, Julio is soon drawn to Rantes’ plausible but fascinating theories (the novel idea of telepresence) and his idiosyncrasies, such as what the title refers to, facing southeast upstanding for hours per day, allegedly transmitting and receiving data with his mother ship, or his almost miraculous power of empathy with fellow hospital residents (which doesn’t wash with his aforementioned unable-to-feel premises, but what do humans know about hyper-intelligent alien lifeforms?, as Rantes repeatedly tells Julio “you wouldn’t understand”).

Unbeknown to Julio, audience is permitted to witness Rantes’ indubitable telekinetic power on many occasions, and director Eliseo Subiela tactfully sows the seed of our perception that Rantes indeed is not our own kind, then propels him closer to the reincarnation of a modern-day Christ (with a preternatural affinity of music and science, roused by Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony and entranced by human brain), especially for his willing resignation toward the hospital’s inhuman treatment near the end while Julio is frustratingly taking a back seat in his plight.

The climax is somehow overlaid with a cynical pang by paralleling Rantes’ ordeal with Julio’s lustful conquest towards the comely and nubile Beatriz Dick (Vernengo), a self-purported recent friend of Rantes, but the truth remain increasingly murky, and the finale shows that Subeila tries hard to find a middle ground to evade the decision of pinpointing either possibility (is Rantes really an alien or an eccentric earth-bound lunatic?).

All in all, MAN FACING SOUTHEAST is a far-fetched parable thrives on the strength of Soto’s unblinking concentration and open-faced persona to imbue dimensionality into this dialogue-laden sophistication, on a lesser extent, Quinteros’ impersonation of skeptical oscillation (affixed with Julio’ overused saxophone player identity, a maudlin divorcé living in his somber apartment), and Subiela’s acrimonious opprobrium leveling at human inanity and cruelty (salted with political sideswipes) pointedly hits the mark, although the film itself swerves unwieldily around the midway, a fabrication leans slightly too fanciful and verbose for its own good.

referential entries: Luis Puenzo’s THE OFFICIAL STORY (1985, 7.6/10); Richard Schenkman’s THE MAN FROM EARTH (2007, 6.6/10).