The other day I found myself embroiled in an awful discussion. No doubt caused by a lack of sleep and the quick brew beer, because it was one of those discussions when we were all on the same side. We were talking about the impossibility of film \u2013or to be more precise, the moving image \u2013 being fictionalised. Let\u2019s just say, the intrinsic non-reality of video even though (or above all) if it is a documentary. The fictitious pact established with reality. <\/p>\n
And while one got irritated remembering the extremes of Kossakovsky, who went way beyond all sensible limits in the manipulation of his own child, by depriving him of any reflective surface so that when the child was two years he could record his reaction when faced with his own image in the mirror \u2013 one just hopes that Svyato made enough money to pay for some good therapy \u2013 another got even angrier, banging a drunken fist on the table, dragging out the ultimate original sin: the Lumi\u00e8re brothers and their workers leaving the factory. <\/p>\n
An observational shot. So na\u00eff. So free. Spontaneous. “A load of shit! Look, just look. Without mentioning the evident technical choices, just look at it. The first moment, that is really the second, the exit is not clear. Now put the last one. Exactly, cut!<\/em>” The exit from the factory, with the opening and closing of doors, begins and ends within 46 seconds of tape. What a coincidence. People are leaving on all sides, in a hurry, excellent. Yet nobody walks into a close up? And then, bingo!<\/em> bingo! You see it. There are strange gestures, changes in direction, one woman tugs on the dress of another -“Hey, it\u2019s this way<\/em>“- while others who find themselves straggling, accelerate their step.<\/p>\n “There\u2019s no doubt about it. There\u2019re being directed.<\/em>” And at that point Le\u00f3n Siminiani came to mind.<\/p>\n