well you know, that’s a great opening there, showcasing the feeling of creation and discovery.
what you allow for me is an emotional entry into your narrative perspective. before you go scuba diving you put on a scuba tank, and i appreciate how you do this for me. i believe the progression is logical for the design of an emotional structure which exists within cinematic character expulsion.
a dividing conceptualization exists between words and cinema as form. this is for the screen. you could write the scene, Kafka did, but your materials compose their own variables. then in the next scene, music overlays floating variables. this, by the way, is what i think you must do, because you cannot be like Kafka by trying to be Kafka, since a point of Kafka and all my favorite artists is that you must be yourself. so i’m glad you bring yourself in as a moviemaker.
to sound cinephilic, i’ll say the superimposition overlay is pure 1928. and i fucking love it. a resurgence in appreciation for ’27-’32 cinematic culture i support so much it makes me fall over. i’m not like “oh what’s happening here?” i choose being delighted over confused every time i can, and i know what’s happening is a cinematic parallel. you’re right next to your character, there’s where you are, that’s where the camera is, getting closer then further then closer.
i’m not a mega supporter of farts, but yeah i get convinced sometimes through repetition, and i’m pro-animals, so by the fourth fart it’s only practical i laugh. i think you’re playing every key on the piano, and you know you’re playing a song, because then comes the title card.
then childhood, like that. effortlessly. then a temporal and thematic match cut. the cinematic textures feel time appropriate for a Kafka adaptation. the railcar, with music, effortlessly. one of the dividing factors in cinematic perspective, which to me is a bummer, is that “art” cinema moments can be called "dead" or something like that. while i think "dead" cinema can burst with human emotion. in lamestream cinema it’s that you move the audience along because they're but sheep.
you ask me, the dialogue sounds appropriate for a Kafka adaptation as well. it feels not to come from humans but sounds and moves in human form. maintaining the distance between reality and fantasy is a technique i appreciate from a fundamental perspective.
nervous eye shifts as a photographic technique! you could get a humanitarian award. he says he doesn’t know if he’s going in this tram. again, the mystery here. then you’ve really worked this fucking shot, since 5:44, you could almost tap dance here, but what happens is an interlude, a portal into the next narrative segment.
“anyway” is how you switch tracks. totally agree. i’m involved with the emotions and what i hear about is pancakes. that’s how you do it. “it’s not raining, forgot to tell you.” that’s when a joke flies out of the park and the audience raises their hands for joy. science.
how could he not begin talking about his worries!?! how could i say you haven’t set me up, gotten me ready for this... and he has people troubles. bless. i got those too. he’s worried ‘cause he don’t feel like nobody else, and he worries people will notice this, put him down for this. he says he hates their things! how can union be possible here? i know this problem and am personally seeking unions, but i do like hearing about this problem.
yelling happens. you crack me up. the song conversation i believe fits nicely into a central idea of this short. while it’s happening he’s worried he might forget it, which blocks his appreciation for the moment, confuses him about lasting meaning.
things are getting cold indeed. he looks so funny on the train. i wish that was on a stamp. jealous about the shot of the small candle warming his feet. the next sequence could be a ride in an amusement park. oh, i’d be scared to go to it! then that's how this ends. and i believe this is a memorable ending which fully encases this short as memorable.
nice.
