朝の夢
See You In My Dreams

A grainy black and white image in slow motion, as only a reel of film can offer. A young woman appears, walking down the street in what at first seems to be indeterminate scenery but turns out to be outside a house. For the sound, however, it’s an old woman’s voice we hear, talking about her romantic memories; she mentions a song and it is heard immediately, as though heard by the young woman.
See you in my dreams, the director’s tribute to her grandmother with her failing health and fading memories, weaves a knot-work of connections between the words of one and the images of the other. This is the portrait of a woman we never see on screen, the portrait of a house whose surroundings are never filmed in their entirety. the film proceeds with splashes and echoes. Young love as evoked by the grandmother seems to correspond to the idyll of the granddaughter, for whom filming herself replaces the impossible viewing of lost youth with the perfect version of which she is the custodian. But the point of splitting the female character into two is to unify it: the two voices end up becoming one synchronised voice. The grandmother’s words become a way for her granddaughter to free herself or to evaporate. It does not matter much either way… Built around the act of gathering words, ultimately, the film is a libation, an offering. (N.L.)
Shun Ikezoe