You can not pay your bill. Your heat and lights are cut. You pay. The clocks initially flash 88:88. You set the clocks. You can not pay. You pay. 88:88. Repeat. 88:88. Cut. You stop setting your clock to the time of the world. You make do with suspension. 88:88.
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The intensity of this film’s diverse cacophony resembles Bela Tarr, for example the sound of the wind in The Turin Horse. This intensity defines the work to a degree that requires the viewer to be into it. Some won't. This film is brilliant in the manner of story telling, I don’t know if a little more information would make it better or worse, but I can imagine many films told in this way. FANTASTIC
I give it 2 stars for that art-school look and feel which is pretty darn funny. It's not one of those movies you have to actually sit through and watch intently. Have it on while you're surfing the net or something.
"The absence of reason; living without a sense of origin or destination. a meaningless search for finitude: for meaning in the lack of meaning, for structure in a lack of structure; the perennial experience of banality, of repetition. distortion. decay. To become shackled, imprisoned by the image of a life without reason."
Cuando el tiempo se suspende todo puede ocurrir simultáneamente. Por eso 88:88 se funde en capas y capas de breves raptos de belleza cotidiana que se impregnan de filosofía e ideas acerca del tiempo. Pero nada de eso endurece la más bien blanda coraza de este rabioso diario visual: la vida pende de momentos imprecisos que Medina agiganta con su observación alucinada, encegecida de sol, superpuesta y mira al futuro.