Weapon of Choice, Light.
There is a thing in which nothing is; yet it has a name. A follower in the desert day, yet invisible in the moon at night. Present in the sun but not in the rain, doing no harm, feeling no pain. A silhouette. How it shapes our gesture with some great incomprehensible promise of meaning. How it knows everything about the way we dance, the way we run, the roads we tread. In and out of the desert, a young girl wanderer waits in her shadow for the light.
Lula del Ray, a stunning live music dance-drama speaks the language of the shadows, soaring us through their visual and multi channel sound landscape, challenging my definition of the cinema experience. Entrapped in a playground of texture, patterns, and detailed architecture which furnished a deep sensory experience of a shadow’s emotions afire. The actors' powerful body movements were almost of avatar-like gestures in a smooth but rigid container, emulating the kinetic language of humanity’s fight for freedom, for happiness. The road taken to feel the empathy for these actors in their mechanical nascent state.
The transcendence of the design sophistication of Manual Cinema, acted as a mask, Übermarionette, fully envisioned mechanical figures stripped from ego and emotions. Manual Cinema liberated the production in the form of contemporary style and fashion, but also in the ways cinema can repossess the present moment by transparently using shadow and light.