The border between the Schengen area and the non-Schengen area, namely Hungary’s eastern border with Ukraine, near the Tisza River, is perhaps one of the darkest and quietest places on Earth. Those attempting to cross it resemble tormented souls whose bodies a thermal camera could barely detect. Their small lights—torches?, themselves?—punch through the blanket of darkness that oppressively covers Federico Cammarata and Filippo Foscarini’s film; but cinema is capable of bringing that light closer, and it is at this point that Ore di Veglia turns to the portraits of several immigrants who do not seem eager for movement (for crossing the border) but instead appear immobile, a sort of contradiction in terms. The two directors thus capture the human side of the tragic socio-political situation of the “green border” that escapes stereotypes and finds the specific in the face of the risk of generality with which collective catastrophes are often spoken.