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Limite (1931)

Excruciatingly slow, with an abundance of long and often seemingly pointless takes of irrelevant details – hidden messages? The strangely anonymous characters, often shot with faces unseen and/or from unconventional angles, emanate a mysteriously convoluted lethargy that sometimes borders on trance or somnambulism. My guess is that this obscure, flowing enigma is somehow about memory and loss. A tragedy told in symbolic tableaux, almost without intertitles but with plenty of repetitions, eisensteinian montage, and broken chronology.

Technically groundbreaking, visually suggestive, critically acclaimed – but not interesting enough for my experimental book.

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