In the final form, film becomes not only art but also a kind of warning - and a sense of insight. When the music of a film finds its accord with the visual imagery of the film the whole of the experience can be captivating - vying for position in your emotional and intellectual landscape with scenes from the real world. Ultimately, there will be films in which these scenes will adhere to the emotional state you are exploring - your dreamworld.
And when that dreamworld intersects the real world, often we find love working its dark and powerful magic. Most creation myths paint this kind of force - this dark winged drive to build - to create - and to explore. Love is a powerful force - it is in all forms, chained, unchained - a type of reconciliation between two worlds that respects them, adapts, protects and nourishes - almost all primitive forms of the story of primal origin have love somewhere at their incept. Perhaps it is our earliest recollection of our mother. Perhaps it is our first memory of a beautiful swedish blonde.
Love is something we cannot truly understand - we intuitively know that we should not understand it completely - and we want to, nevertheless - but in the end, we really don't understand it and we all know that we don't. And we don't know where it will take us next. Love is not God. God is not love. Love is...like language - unknowable at its core but at the edges - patterned , vital to the reshaping of the shoreline. Take away love, from a newborn chimpanzee - he or she will die. We are not quite sure why. They simply get very sad. And then. They die.
In intersection of love and dreamworld, can be found a frozen second in which the entire world of the film Cashback , is created, and summarily destroyed. We chase through the film leaving a hole in the field of snowflakes. Milk spins weightless.
Just like a magical kiss - there isn't any real template. It can be something that starts without rhythm - it can be an a capella. She feels it as well as you. Or maybe you don't land it right. There is no book that teaches us how to fall in love. For some reason, we drive on trying to discover it. As if discovery, is part of it.
When we discover an obscure film, like Cashback - and follow its wending journey to a simple conclusion - it doesn't derail us from what we're doing. We are, perhaps, like people frozen in time - our clothes stripped - and part of us drawn. An experience we are not really aware of. The artist neither abusing us, nor dealing ethically - restoring us to where we were.
But perhaps. Just ever so slightly changed. For the better, and instead of being statues that artists explore - we are transported with the artist to explore for ourselves.