I love the way Ackerman Ackerman uses film grain as a marker of absolute time — as we watch it eat away at her shadowed body, it remarks upon each second. Counting the long moments of slumping into a shaded corner or the slow fall into the night.
It’s through this stark measure of time keeping that ennui is built up and sustained. With brief vignettes of human connection attempting and failing to puncture the nothingness. Fog and grain / reflections and bright light — it’s a journey for understanding and to be understood. Yet the ending always makes me sad.
