Songwriter Dion McGregor became famous in the 1960s for narrating his dreams in his sleep. His flatmate recorded him doing so. 　　In their new film somniloquies, Lucien Castaing-Taylor and Verena Paravel overcome the boundaries between inner dreamscapes and human bodies. At the start, flowing forms can be seen and a gentle, undefinable sound made out in the background. McGregor's voice appears and makes an invitation: “I have expected you, come-on in, I said I would grant an interview”. The more we listen to him and enter into his dreamworld, the clearer the contours of the sleeping bodies become, before they seem to dissipate once again. The dreaming man speaks with people who are sawing open his body, removing his organs and stitching him back up. As we find out how painful he finds the stitches, we ask ourselves for how long we’ll want to follow the camera, which sometimes seems to caress the bodies tenderly, but at other times seeks to pierce them almost brutally, like an x-ray. Just in time, we hear his voice: "Let’s go to future land (…) it’s shining near the corner". In this case, sleeping in the cinema means pushing forward to its very limits. (berlinale 2017)

When a language dies, a unique vision of the world is lost forever.

When a language dies, a unique vision of the world is lost forever.

本片是導演捕捉沖繩「被返還」後風景的嘗試，純粹拍攝來往的人們、動物與地貌風景，呈現盈滿沖繩未盡之戰的視覺和嗅覺記憶，並以8mm膠卷嗅錄那股關於死亡的氣息。受到約拿斯・梅卡斯《追憶立陶宛之旅》的啟發，本片的非敘事結構和間歇的慢動作鏡頭，就像是超越既視感的視覺詩篇。