Goodbye

What do you do if you want to keep reality at a distance? You put a camera in between, just like the boy that unrelentingly lets his camera run at his father’s funeral. His mother can order him to put the thing away as much as she wants, the son keeps capturing what his eyes don’t want to see and his heart doesn’t want to feel. In the process, the handheld perspective also represents the mourning of a child who’d obviously rather play than weep.

Supernova

Meis is fifteen, lives in the back of beyond and aspires to a grand and stirring life, but all that happens is the passing of the time, waiting for the next car to run into the front of the house.