hypnotically disorienting even though time, paradoxically, exists to orient us along one axis of our world... to be in a liminal space like a movie theatre, still anchored to the real world by the film itself with its on-screen clocks matching the actual time, yet any slipping into comfort, into narrative, constantly interrupted by the shifting scenes, genres, and moods
*will note i did not watch this film in its entirety at all either time i've sat in on this film at the MoMA (first time dec 2012 + this time was at the MoMA march party)
