The fine b/w use of stills from the choreographic sex battle of the sexes is not enough to sustain whatever analogies are intended by the filmmaker, as these are already divested from semantics in the motley surfaces, hypnotic gazes and mechanical references that characterize the sexual self. Even the interesting close-up on shampooed hair fails to carry the miniscules to a cosmic sphere: part of the trance evoked.
Review of Cold Meridian
