A TATTOO
dir. Kamil Dobrosielski
This short film offers an intimate and compelling portrait of resilience, built around a life marked by violence, loss, identity, and ultimately, transformation through art. What makes the story particularly affecting is not only what the protagonist has endured, but the way those experiences have been redirected into a creative impulse. There is something deeply moving in seeing a person who grew up surrounded by violence find a possibility of salvation through artistic expression. In that sense, the film touches on something universal about art itself: the need to transform pain into something that can be expressed, shared, and perhaps understood. In many ways, isn't this also what we often seek to do through cinema?
The film handles the question of gender with remarkable subtlety. As a native Spanish speaker, I was fortunate to experience an additional layer of this construction that is inevitably difficult to preserve in translation. Before Sandro's identity is explicitly revealed, certain grammatical choices in Spanish already begin to suggest a masculine identity. When he says, for example, that he felt "muy solo," the masculine form becomes a small but significant clue. In the English subtitles this naturally becomes "I felt lonely," where the gender information disappears entirely. This creates a particularly elegant progression in the original language, allowing the viewer to begin sensing something before the film eventually makes the transition from Sandra to Sandro explicit. It is a subtle and very effective narrative choice.
The visual approach is particularly strong. The rawness of the images, the grain, the textures, and the slightly vintage quality of the photography work beautifully with a story rooted in pain and memory. The tattooing process becomes much more than a visual accompaniment to the voice-over. It creates a parallel narrative. While we listen to emotional wounds from the past, we watch the protagonist voluntarily experience physical pain in the present, turning the body itself into a place where those experiences can be transformed into art.
This relationship between image and testimony also gives the film an effective rhythm. Even during pauses in the narration, the images remain captivating. The physical process of tattooing carries its own tension, allowing the filmmakers to avoid overloading the piece with words or explanation.
Importantly, despite the harshness of what is being recounted, the film never feels emotionally manipulative. The first-person narration gives the story an honesty and directness that allows painful events to speak for themselves. There is no need to force sentiment when the lived experience is already so powerful.
Perhaps the strongest indication of how successfully the film constructs its protagonist is that, by the end, there is a genuine desire to continue following this person's journey. The short works beautifully as a character portrait, but it also leaves an intriguing question unanswered: what is the challenge today? Having understood where Sandro comes from and how much has already been overcome, one wants to know what happens next.
It is an admirable story of survival and transformation, sensitively told and supported by a photographic language that truly belongs to the world it portrays.
Review by Javier Palleiro
7.4/10

A tattoo
Directed by Kamil Dobrosielski (Poland)
In a tattoo studio in Medellín, Sandro—a non-binary artivist and rapper—sits down to get a new tattoo. As the needle moves across their skin, Sandro recalls their past: the murder of their brother, the years of anger and violence that followed, and the moment of transformation that came in prison. Through tattoos and music, Sandro reclaims their story—turning trauma into art and pain into purpose. A Tattoo is an intimate portrait of healing and resistance, where every mark on the skin becomes a step toward self-acceptance and creative freedom.
