Horror Shorts In Focus: Los Elegidos – Sunlit Terror on the Shore
There are horror films that lurk in the dark and there are those brave few that bathe in the sunlight, daring you to find the fear that hides in plain sight. Fercks Castellani’s Los Elegidos, translated as The Chosen Ones, belongs proudly to the latter. It is a beautiful nightmare that unfolds entirely in the open, the blazing sun bearing witness to its quiet terror. No shadows, no darkness, no excuses. Just two people, the sea, and the inevitable pull of fate.
The short, which runs just over nine minutes including credits, opens with an exquisite aerial shot of waves breaking on the Argentine coast. The water shimmers, a dazzling mirror to the clear sky above, and for a brief moment you might mistake this for the start of a travel advert. Then the camera drifts down to reveal a man and a woman sitting on deckchairs facing the sea. The serenity curdles as you notice their wrists and ankles are bound in chains, fastened to a concrete block buried beneath the sand.
Laura, played by Clara Kovacic, chants a Hare Krishna mantra with calm devotion, her voice the only human sound in the film. Matías, portrayed by Ezequiel Rodríguez, smiles nervously at her, unsure whether to join in or panic. There is no dialogue between them beyond the chanting, only glances and small expressions that reveal a lifetime of emotion. The tide inches closer, water licking their shins, and though the situation screams for desperation, Laura’s face glows with eerie serenity.
The terror of Los Elegidos lies not in what it shows but in what it refuses to explain. We never learn why they are chained or who put them there. Are they part of a ritual? Lovers punished for something unspeakable? Or simply two lost souls who accepted their fate? The film gives no answers, only the steady rhythm of the waves and the mounting dread that time is running out.
Director Fercks Castellani crafts this minimal setup with remarkable precision; favouring a very shallow depth of focus that isolates the pair against the vastness of the ocean. Every blurred horizon feels like an accusation, every crystal-clear detail a reminder that there is nowhere to hide. On a sun-drenched beach, Castellani finds the beauty in horror and the horror in beauty. This is a story that does not need darkness to scare you; its horror glows in broad daylight.
Shot on the beach at San Clemente del Tuyú in Buenos Aires Province and a beach in Uruguay, Los Elegidos was made on a small budget. Yet the film looks far beyond its cost. Cinematographer Juan Molano, working with an Arri Alexa and Cooke Panchro lenses, captures the blinding heat and vast stillness of the landscape with poetic clarity. It is the kind of photography that makes you squint and sweat just looking at it, a vision so sharp you can almost feel the sand sticking to your skin.
And then there is the sound. Nicolás Iaconis’s design, re-recorded in a full 5.1 mix, transforms the sea into a character in its own right. The waves crash not just as background noise but as a living threat, rising and receding like the breath of an unseen god. The mantra repeats, and at times, the two characters begin to scream at the sea — not in fear, but in defiance, smiling as they shout, as if daring the tide to come and take them. It is an extraordinary, almost ecstatic moment, turning terror into something strangely transcendent.
For a film with no dialogue and one location, Los Elegidos never feels confined. Castellani uses the sound and image to stretch every second, pulling the audience into a trance-like state. By the time the final frame fades, you are not sure whether you have witnessed a sacrifice, an act of faith, or a very polite apocalypse.
Los Elegidos makes its debut at the Sitges Film Festival in Barcelona, an apt stage for a film that proves how international horror continues to evolve beyond clichés. Castellani’s film recalls the meditative tension of filmmakers like Jonathan Glazer and the precision of minimalist thrillers, yet it remains uniquely Argentinian in its rhythm and imagery.
At a time when horror often hides behind darkness and special effects, Los Elegidos stands defiantly in the light. It is a reminder that fear does not always need shadows. Sometimes, horror is most effective when there is nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and no mercy in sight — just two deckchairs, a rising tide, and the calm acceptance of doom.
