by Luna Issa
Each of the seven films in this programme burns, fizzes and contorts with gestures of connection and desire.
In Maryam Tafakory’s Nazarbazi, moments of onscreen longing are presented through an assemblage of clips from Iranian feature films, a cinematic context in which the depiction of physical touch between men and women is forbidden. Fulfilment is deferred through an anticipatory build-up of intimate glances and affectionate gestures. A similar sense of anticipation and uncertainty is provoked through forms with space and distance and hills, in which Jason Moyes captures a series of landscape shots on Super 8mm film to explore how scenes of nature are affected by electrical structures – juxtaposing shots of pylons with archival audio from sculptor and artist Barbara Hepworth.
Claudia Claremi’s Hailstone positions itself somewhere between a ‘day in the life’ self-portrait and a snapshot reel of significant moments during the pandemic. While the filmmaker prepares meals and catches up with friends on video calls, broadcasts from a world in lockdown, including reports on Black Lives Matter activism, are heard. In Lou Lou Sainsbury’s equally intimate descending notes, a blueish-pink twilight serves as the backdrop to a trio of trans people’s intersecting forms of solidarity. Grounded in touch, Sainsbury’s film is erotic and quotidian in equal measure, speculating on a future that transcends the physical.
In William Hong-xiao Wei’s Embers from Yesterday, Aflame., the viewing experience itself is transcendental, with analogue film stocks, intentionally damaged by a range of materials including cleaning products, presented in heavy distortion. Images flash in impossibly rich colours, creating an obstruction to scenes of physical intimacy. In contrast, Bryam Kinkela’s Asymmetrical Future frames a romantic rekindling with frontal, unobstructed clarity. Kinkela presents the reunion of two characters in a simple and effective shot-reverse shot. Tension builds as the two slowly approach each other.
The programme is brought to a playful close with My Love Poem, a hand-drawn stop-motion film made by Daru Mcaleece and John Hood – a short-and-sweet expression of companionship that lends a distinctly Scottish humour to its call-and-response structure.
