Shadow-Machine, Shadow-Machine

The invisible threads and the passages from one universe to another, wherein one talks through the other, is the stuff that films by Élise Florenty and Marcel Türkowski are made of. Here we are in Japan, on a tropical summer night. An opaque, ominous night, fraught with silhouettes that at times conjure up the manipulators of Bunraku classical theatre, and a night during which a man, in some strange effort, obdurately tries to read in the darkness. (NF)