Described by some as a psychedelic, science fiction, road movie, this dialogue free experimental film from Filipino writer/director Raya Martin is by no means an easy watch. But if you put in the effort (and suffer the hearing loss) will you be suitably rewarded?
After a couch bound introduction where two people watching television may or may not be getting high, the main body of the film features young lovers on a trip. There are some title cards between sections that mention time travel and teleportation but this was as far as the sci-fi elements seemed to go.
We follow the unnamed couple played by Andrés Gertrúdix and Pilar López de Ayala as they drive to a local beauty spot, find a big rock, go for a walk in the woods, find a large mushroom, arrive in a city (possibly Bilbao) and tour an art gallery, where eventually they find some paintings that make them sad (by famous Filipino artist and activist Juan Luna).
The director uses brief clips, repeated over and over in a progressive sequence that slowly allows their journey to progress. This technique, which is initially mesmerising, progresses through tedium and back to mesmerising many times as the story (such as it is) unfolds.
The footage, of which there may well only be ten minutes in total for the main part of the film, is very heavily treated. Looking almost like a moving screen print at times it is colour coded, blue for the man, greeny yellow for the woman and reds and greys when they are both in the same shot. The significance of this is not apparent.
The music is quite a cacophony, sounding like an avant garde jazz band playing post-rock while falling down the stairs. Occasionally accompanied by cartoon sound effects.
The last section of the film is more or less silent and this relief contributes to the quiet beauty of the ending. That is to say the ending of the film. There is no resolution to the narrative. It just stops.
Any subtext the film may have is hidden behind the impenetrable presentation. Without some hint at the directors intention it is nearly impossible to interpret the onscreen activity in any meaningful way leaving only the raw experience, which, while definitely an experience, would be difficult to describe as fulfilling.
Perhaps those with a better understanding of the history of the turmoil between the Philippines and Spain will have a fuller appreciation of the film as a piece of political art.
EIFF 2012 — count: 12
Festivals — count: 132
