Remembrances past, remind me to pass.
No Cast found.
Trailer
Originally edited in two versions. Version I, 70 minutes; version II, 90 minutes. (The only known existing version is not Markopoulos’s edit and contains additional titles, music and voice-over added later than 1961. 65 minutes.) Filmed in Mytilene and Annavysos, Greece, 1958. Existing copy on video, J. and M. Paris Films, Athens.
A meditative journey, using and manipulating archival silent film footage, that investigates the look of the "New Woman" in Chinese silent screen.
No overview available.
Dark blood red slow shifting tones (often embedded in dark) / (often shot-thru with parallel wave-like lines) composed of all previous shapes and flowers as if trying, linearly, to evolve a glyph-script. Preserved by the Academy Film Archive in 2013.
Special effects film with a train double exposed on the negative, creating a ghostly image.
An audio-visual installation by Helena Wittmann and Nika Son, based on the interaction of the shape and the sound from waves. The delicate image-installation arouses an awe of audiovisual senses to the audience. The shape of waves, the pitch of sound, and the innumerably changing waves made by screens of two different sizes, create the message of formation, evolution and extinction in the audio-visual, synesthetic sense.
An experimental installation inspired by the shot and reverse shot, one of the basics methodologies of cinema. The audiences follow the path designed by Jang to see the images, and simultaneously they are also recorded by a hidden camera in the reverse angle. This embodies the concept “gaze of gaze.” The film was shot in three different places to capture the atmosphere of DMZ. The installation consists of two-channel projections, CCTV cameras, and objects representing the DMZ.
In the future, a second great flood covers most of the known world. Country borders collapse and language barrier disappear. All salvageable books are taken to a deep underground vault facility for protection. Run by priests, the facility is called The Stacks. As Olivia wanders the facility she discovers that she may not be alone and that a dark part of her past may have followed her into the narrow corridors of this inescapable purgatory.
This film was made with the help of a diary, video tapes and a roll of film found in the Lahemaa forest. The owner has been reported missing
Originally made for the 100 Feet Film Festival hosted by Image Forum. However, to test the limits, Terayama Shūji willfully made use of 3 projectors to project 300 feet of film at the same time.
Finished shooting in 1962, the movie’s cast was almost the same as its crew. With a bunch of experimental symbols such as skinny human body, clock and goat flow from one scene to another, the film explores the question of whether a man is a prisoner of time.
The smallpox virus has created its own unique atmosphere in Terayama’s film where the skin of a bandaged adolescent and the surface of the filmic image are subjected to a bizarre ‘disturbance’ as snails cross the screen and nails are hammered into the skull of the ailing patient. Illness in this film is as much a psychic entity as a physical one and manifests itself in an array of theatrical tableaux from grotesque women rigorously brushing their teeth to a snooker game where the players in white face makeup behave like automata. A Tale of Smallpox uses a medical theme to chart the traumatic dream life of Terayama’s times, evincing deep-rooted concerns in the Japanese national psyche that hark back to the upheaval of Meiji modernisation and the devastation of World War Two.
Visions of characters by the seaside from one's memory are erased by the filmmaker's hand.
Using bluescreen video techniques, Terayama playfully—and with a silent film theatricality—posits a series of postmodern vignettes featuring realities-within-realities as his protagonist attempts some kind of relationship with a nude woman on the screen-within-the-screen. In his struggles to “free” her, he exposes the absurd flimsiness, deceptiveness and mutability of both the cinema experience and our human dimension.
As a family goes on with their day, the shadows on their walls lead a completely different life.
In this Borgesian satire on knowledge and technology, bibliophilic desire leads to the construction of a pedal-powered reading machine. Resembling a combination of gymnastic contraption, printing press and early cinematic apparatus, the machine’s purpose remains ambiguous. And like this machine, Terayama’s film connects his work in poetry, motion picture and graphic design by weaving together printed and projected, still and moving images.
Three showgirls playfully mock the audience for attending a projection of an art film.
A naval officer makes love to his wife while his son, the director of the film, watches them.
A short experimental film about a fire hydrant, a busy sidewalk nestled between an electrical post and a building.
An experimental short featuring people and nails.
