Like the best filmmakers working with found footage, Rosenblatt causes you to apprehend familiar images with the vertigo of unsettling new insights; not things you can easily explain, but that you feel in your stomach, under your skin, cutting through what Deleuze calls the cliche of images; cliches because, having seen the same images so many times presented the same way, we think we've seen all they have to offer.
Don't know if this is Rosenblatt's best but he is certainly gifted in how his images cohere in those shorts which enable him to build some sort of narrative, albeit ellipitical. The imagery from nature, society and the cosmos is perfecrly tuned to the inner mental lanscape of the three women and the dialectic of refuge/jail works superbly in terms of a Foucauldian critique of normality. Luminous in the claustrum!
Existential despair dealt with as a visceral, sensual escapade. A perfect conclusion to his ouvre: An engaging, tireless, repetitive practise of meaning-making. Humans can live without anything but meaning. His films have been like that bag of chips, consume all or none at all. That in itself is a mark of craftsmanship and a compelling recipe. An exquisite gleaner and economizer too. This film is written very well.
Trying to tap into certain subjects just don't fare well with found footage collages, unfortunately. That is the case for this particular short. I personally find Jay Rosenblatt's method of filmmaking working best when he's having fun and playing with ideas or reflecting on his life.
Freudian clinical cases. JR films are deeply concerned with suffering. He explores what that means and how to reduce it. It makes you think through images, beautiful frames, but something that seems trivial often emerges. Don't know what it is, but it might be related to the density of such topics.