Armstrong's strength in composition, sound, aesthetics, structure and emotional candour read as the product of a veteran auteur, not the result of an assumedly very low budget and equally low level of experience. As first projects come, the restraint shown in regards to the direction of his actors, and treatment of the characters they portray, stands as a hopeful benchmark in an age where dreadfully verbose camerawork, the existence of colour, and a soundtrack comprised of kanye west and sufjan stevens equate to articulate cinema. While comparing this profoundly sensitive and remarkably constructed work to its contemporaries feels gross, the fact this ironically sits in a period of indecisiveness due to its inability to secure a distributor, while those same contemporaries receive endless funding and accolades, is noteworthily painful.
Armstrong's understanding of grief and the following struggles on the tightrope of emotional neglect versus confrontation reflect in every component of the film. The camerawork especially highlights this, for example, rarely are our characters wholly in the frame, usually cast to the corners while shot through a haze of light, shadow, or in some instances, shrouded behind a double exposure. Portraying his inability to attach himself to the present on such a visceral level is deeply effective in translating his thoughts to the viewer. Thoughts which would previously be harder to decipher given the impenetrable appearance our lead maintains throughout the film; juxtaposing the crushing pain behind his mask, communicated through visual style, with the (often) emotionless character within said visuals. The aesthetic beauty of these scenes is inexplicable, seriously some of the most gorgeous images in cinema are found within this film, the skill in regards to manipulating natural light to an almost psychedelic effect is just incomparable. Which when coupled with the sorrow behind these images makes them an overwhelmingly emotional experience. This becoming compounded even further by the expert placement of certain revelatory scenes such as the tragically formal and inhuman casket scene, various dinner sequences, a remarkably subtle yet important outburst at a grocery store, and most importantly, the way too late first spoken confrontation regarding the tragedy which took place.
As i have spent nearly the last decade of my life in close proximity to where this film is set, ive spent countless time wandering similar roads and landscapes, daydreaming of atmospheres and images based around them. Watching this was as depressing as it was cathartic, due to the films ability to somehow perfectly represent these same tones and vague abstractions i never could have never fully realized given the fact im not a genius visual magician the likes king kyle armstrong. Secondly i must add a large portion of my attraction to this film was result of the composer credit from jim o'rourke, a man who is quickly becoming one of my favourite artists of all time. The score certainly reflects the work of his ongoing steam room series however the broader instrumentation and use of strings made it particularly incredible. As well i am going to assume the guitar-based song featured part-way through the film was written by him due to its john fahey esque melancholia and composition - fahey being one of o'rourke's idols - and misanthropic lyricism.
This film truly stunned me, an overwhelmingly comprehensive technical marvel, yet equally outstanding in its subtlety and far too real articulation of grief. Modern-day masterpiece. Praying for another.
