Justine Otondo

Justine Otondo’s filmography is kind of a wild ride, honestly. You’ve got “100 Days” up there, but let’s be real, most people clock her for her work on “Macabro” (2019) and “Inverno” (2022). “Macabro” is one of those movies that sticks in your head long after the credits roll. It’s got this unsettling energy, like something’s crawling just beneath the surface. Otondo leans into that unease, crafting scenes that are equal parts haunting and weirdly beautiful. The pacing’s almost hypnotic—one minute you’re just watching someone make coffee, the next you’re questioning your own reality. She doesn’t spoon-feed you answers, either. There’s a lot left unsaid, and honestly, it works. Then there’s “Inverno,” which is a whole different beast. The mood shifts, colder, sharper—fitting, considering the title. Otondo plays with silence and space in a way that makes every little sound feel massive, like the crack of ice underfoot. The relationships are fraught; people say more with glances than with words, and the tension just simmers. She’s got this knack for pulling raw, unfiltered emotion out of her cast, so even when nothing “big” is happening, you’re glued to the screen, waiting for something to crack. There’s a realness to her storytelling, like she’s not interested in neat resolutions or tying things up with a bow. Instead, you get something messy, human, and oddly relatable.