Walking silhouettes, this film takes place in a void. It is a void. Even when the kitchen's painted white, it's still a blind abyss. All is void. Again the abstracted aesthetic of a shitty rip feeds the pulsating black cavity. However so sad these have not been restored; who doesn't want to see the fine crevasses of dark matter? Is it even possible? Does matter lay within the void? Is it visible, meant to be seen?
Saw this film once in the 1970s but the memory remains. As strong a portrait of isolation as THE TENANT and TAXI DRIVER. THE DESERT OF THE TARTARS, made the same year, also portrays isolation but on an epic scale. It was partly filmed in Iran, the homeland of Saless. What stays with me is the way Saless captures the sheer dead weight of depression, and the feeling that the oxygen has departed this man's world.
meat+loneliness, i remembered where i met this paradox of putting together isolation and flesh. human form is estranged socially, emotionally and materially, what is left of it is a vague nostalgia, its primary amorphous constituent - flesh, almost abstract in its capability of being everything, in its almost infinite virtualities. flesh informs life, yet any instance of it that we come into contact with is through