This is a difficult film to examine since it appears to defy interpretation, and even on interpretation I feel as though there is a little something for everybody to take away from this unique indie arthouse attack.
The entire sensation is channelled through a fascinating collection of pieces to camera, ranging from the painfully poignant Reuben Clarke recounting his abuse to Wendy Patterson's frustratingly soul-crushing authority, who is a perfect portrayal of the robotic kafka-esque bureaucrats who care not for creativity and freedom.
One of the few films that genuinely achieves the dreamy feeling that many claim to have. The slowness of the introduction, the bridging of the narrative as it fades in and out, and the impression the camera provides us as the viewer's eyes, with no control over where you're going all set the setting for a mesmerizingly bizarre experience that can only be compared to a dream. Similarly, dreams may be interpreted in a variety of ways.
I'd recommend giving this a watch if you are able to find it outside of Manchester.
The entire sensation is channelled through a fascinating collection of pieces to camera, ranging from the painfully poignant Reuben Clarke recounting his abuse to Wendy Patterson's frustratingly soul-crushing authority, who is a perfect portrayal of the robotic kafka-esque bureaucrats who care not for creativity and freedom.
One of the few films that genuinely achieves the dreamy feeling that many claim to have. The slowness of the introduction, the bridging of the narrative as it fades in and out, and the impression the camera provides us as the viewer's eyes, with no control over where you're going all set the setting for a mesmerizingly bizarre experience that can only be compared to a dream. Similarly, dreams may be interpreted in a variety of ways.
I'd recommend giving this a watch if you are able to find it outside of Manchester.