Mother Floor

'Mother Floor (1996)' is a minute-long short film in which visual artist Pipilotti Rist appears to swallow the viewer, then excrete them and repeat the cycle. It's not as gross as that might make it seem, even though it does feature extreme close-up imagery of Rist's anus. I'm not quite sure what the point of it is, if there's some sort of deeper meaning that Rist is trying to convey, but I am sure that it's as interesting as it is strange. In my book, that's a good thing. The only reason I even knew about this was because someone I follow on Letterboxd watched it. After reading its description (and learning it was only a minute long), how could I resist seeing what it's all about? From the description, I wasn't sure if it was going to be some sort of endoscopy/colonoscopy where the camera is literally inside Rist, but it essentially skips out any of the inside parts with a semi-hidden fade, the darkness of the back of her throat blending into the darkness of her anus as the camera pulls away from her backside and swings around to her face to begin the cycle anew. It's sort of hypnotic in its own way, with a series of four different 'passes' from mouth to butt and back again being repeated two-and-a-quarter times before the film finishes. In effect, it could be repeated ad infinitum and I'm not sure it would ever get any less fascinating or mysterious. It's not sexual in any way, nor is it particularly crude. A more immature viewer may be inclined to laugh (I'm not excluding myself from immaturity, just to be clear) and a more prudish viewer may be inclined to recoil, but the clinical presentation of such an absurd concept renders a state of bemusement or intrigue rather than amusement or discomfort. There's something oddly enigmatic about the piece, something which captures the attention and almost demands a rewatch or a share. When I first saw it, I felt as though I wouldn't be able to write all that much about it. Yet, here we are, 370 words into a review that isn't finished. There's this intangibly compelling quality to the short, one which has snuck up on me in the days since I saw it (and saw it again). I don't really know what that quality is, or why I find myself so fond of it the more I think about it. I honestly can't put my finger on why I'm inclined to say I truly like this bizarre, seemingly inconsequential slice of niche video art. I'd be lying if I said I didn't, though.

It's not great, of course. It doesn't tell an affecting, compelling story with hidden layers and a deep emotional truth. It's not the most entertaining short, nor is it the most engaging. What it is, though, is incredibly interesting and equally as unique. Rist bravely presents her whole physical self, showing areas of her body most people wouldn't dream of revealing to anyone other than their most intimate of partners. By doing so, there's a sense that she's presenting her inner self, too. We don't actually know anything about her from the footage she presents here, but it kind of feels like we do. Her vulnerability is playful, almost wielded as a weapon. The short is at once incredibly personal and incredibly universal, depicting the endless cycle of consumption that everyone on the planet is beholden to (in more ways than one). I guess that's one of the underlying theses here: just as the snake eats its own tail, humanity eats itself - or, perhaps more pessimistically, its own excrement. The short puts Rist in the position of humanity, but also puts the audience in that position. It's ostensibly a first-person affair, taking the inherent voyeurism of cinema and using it in a way that transforms the usually passive viewer into an active character. After all, if Rist isn't swallowing and excreting us, who is she swallowing and excreting? I feel like I've waffled on for far too long about a minute-long short that's essentially just a woman rolling around on the floor pretending to eat the audience before she pops them out of her backside and eagerly moves to start the process again. Isn't that what art is meant to do, though? Provoke thought and discussion? It'd be all too easy to dismiss this piece due to its genuinely weird concept, but I don't think that's fair. After all, if it has inspired me to write this much about it, it must be doing something right. It's not designed for a cheap laugh or an even cheaper shock. It's not pointless, even if it perhaps doesn't have a specific point. It's not something cooked up by a studio with the intention of making money. It's an experimental short film by a visual artist with something to say (whatever that may be) and a distinct way to say it. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think I really like it.