“I’m on shaky ground.”
A piece acutely aware of the historical development of film as a language, materializing Sara’s desire for freedom of self within the piece’s transformative disconnect between the realist framework and perceived unreality of color. The overwhelming strokes of lush colorization place the text’s observation of a grounded world within an aura of innate subjectivity, constructing the images around the need to break through societal constraints: the realist’s dissatisfaction with the realities being inflicted onto her subjects.
I see myself deeply in the characterization of Sara, but expressing that connection feels too vulnerable for my taste. However, I recognize that my hesitancy in detailing how Sara touched me is the exact thing the film is criticizing. My intelligence forces performative distance out of me. Cold, distant, secretive, and even inherently judgmental in nature—these are the labels thrust onto me, even if none of those characteristics are personally resonant. A world that demands the construction of a fortress before shaming you for stepping outside of it—a silent, internal form of oppression that should be impossible to express visually. I am hesitant to step out of that fortress of mine. I am hesitant to create—to express myself in such a way that runs counter to this self-image I cling to. I want to continue writing until I disclose some kind of closure, but this declaration of hesitancy will have to do for now.
Losing Ground is a special film. I'll say that much.
“I’m on shaky ground.”
A piece acutely aware of the historical development of film as a language, materializing Sara’s desire for freedom of self within the piece’s transformative disconnect between the realist framework and perceived unreality of color. The overwhelming strokes of lush colorization place the text’s observation of a grounded world within an aura of innate subjectivity, constructing the images around the need to break through societal constraints: the realist’s dissatisfaction with the realities being inflicted onto her subjects.
I see myself deeply in the characterization of Sara, but expressing that connection feels too vulnerable for my taste. However, I recognize that my hesitancy in detailing how Sara touched me is the exact thing the film is criticizing. My intelligence forces performative distance out of me. Cold, distant, secretive, and even inherently judgmental in nature—these are the labels thrust onto me, even if none of those characteristics are personally resonant. A world that demands the construction of a fortress before shaming you for stepping outside of it—a silent, internal form of oppression that should be impossible to express visually. I am hesitant to step out of that fortress of mine. I am hesitant to create—to express myself in such a way that runs counter to this self-image I cling to. I want to continue writing until I disclose some kind of closure, but this declaration of hesitancy will have to do for now.
Losing Ground is a special film. I'll say that much.
