A smokestack stubbornly pierces the sky. Trains rumble by down below. Lights come on in the buildings as night falls. There is a man behind the camera, looking for an image — of himself? Of the world? Of society?
This may not be a film to make a great fuss about, if not the recurring motif of non-epiphanic, painterly velificantes: towering clouds, a smokestack, a fire with a thick train of ascending smoke, the moon. A frequent device in Roman art, velificatio is framing a deity with a billowing garment, often appearing with celestial, weather or sea entities, to suggest vigorous movement or the vault of heaven. And while this