It's the only film I've ever seen in which the actual stock was purposefully made to match the mood and surrounding of the film itself. Genius.
One watches a silent landscape come in and out of life, movement. One breathes, gathers wood, sleeps. We flicker, we die, we end.
Shot on 16mm film then transferred to 35mm for presentation, the film celebrates all the weaknesses of film stock while rarely displaying its strengths. The long takes of a man living alone and isolated (except for the camera and whatever crew, of course) are often intriguing, sometimes beautiful, and regularly challenging of the patience. Some will find it rewarding and worthwhile, others won't. I'm on the fence.
One of my favorite touches is the seeming instability of the film stock; its latitude and contrast seem on the verge of collapse, ready to crack apart to a sudden flood of hot light, or a gradual corrosion into the sackcloth of darkness.
Ah, dirt, something we rarely see in today's cinema. Imperfection, rough edges. The images flickers, like it used to. A free film about a free man, "free" being a paradox as it does have its limits. It has no beginning or end, everything is constantly coming into being then passing away.