Suzan Pitt’s landmark work of surrealist animation found cult fame when it was coupled in midnight screenings with David Lynch’s Eraserhead. Pulling back the red curtain on the mysterious depths of our subconscious, it matches the weirdness of the Lynchian imaginary, spermatozoal squiggles and all.

Seductively moody with lachrymal watercolors and slow jazz, Suzan Pitt’s atmospheric short begins in a noirish realm of downcast introspection. Once the melancholic fog lifts, bright and looping jungle imagery flourishes, inspired by the filmmaker’s own joyful adventures in Guatemala and Mexico.

Shot on the floor of her bedroom and soundtracked to a xylophonic plink-plonk with the help of her toddler, Suzan Pitt’s playful short is as witty as it is whimsical. Giggling its way to ecstasy, this early work by the American animator bursts with colorful similes for the body and its pleasures.

Shot through with ticklish dialogue from a dipsomaniac medic and unorthodox saints, this short is as comical as it is grotesque. With hand-painting from fellow experimental filmmaker Naomi Uman, Suzan Pitt twists the path to salvation, transforming it into a miniature house of horrors.

Metaphysical questions swirl across Suzan Pitt’s darkly ethereal short, which combines a soul-searching voiceover with charcoal imagery. Across nine alchemical minutes, spindly figures are continually swallowed into a black void, in a danse macabre that plumbs the dramatic depths of existence.