I saw this film at the Seattle Film Festival, and I have to say that it has really stuck with me ever since: certainly more than any other short I saw that day and admittedly more than most wide-release features I've seen lately.
Part experimental art film, and part tragic romance, "Flash" is the sort of movie that begs some sort of reaction from its audience. Its unconventional narrative structure also requires a certain amount of intellectual activity on the part of the viewer. To understand what is going on, one needs to not only pay attention to the images that are literally flashing before your eyes, but to consider one's own experiences of memory, love, and loss.
Within 30 seconds of the start of this film, we are crashing headlong into the heart of the story (and also into the cement sidewalk as the camera recreates the final moments of a suicide victim). The entire film is seen through a first- person perspective, a technique which might seem alarming and perhaps gimmicky at first. However, it's this very technique which leads us to run the gamut of emotions with the protagonist in only 10 minutes time. The director provides the audience with a steady stream of stunning visuals along with an intricate, and sometimes disturbing, sound design which echo feelings ranging from elation to devastation and almost everything in between.
This is a film with has little in the way of dialogue or poignant acting. Instead, it relies on what is perhaps film's greatest boon: the visual experience. The film concludes with somewhat of a twist ending, but it's most interesting aspect is the question it poses throughout: what does one remember in the final moments of life? According to this film, it is the snatched flashes of love, loss, home, expectation, and hope.
If you're in a bit of an existential, thinking mood, or if you just like great cinematography, I'd highly recommend this film.
Part experimental art film, and part tragic romance, "Flash" is the sort of movie that begs some sort of reaction from its audience. Its unconventional narrative structure also requires a certain amount of intellectual activity on the part of the viewer. To understand what is going on, one needs to not only pay attention to the images that are literally flashing before your eyes, but to consider one's own experiences of memory, love, and loss.
Within 30 seconds of the start of this film, we are crashing headlong into the heart of the story (and also into the cement sidewalk as the camera recreates the final moments of a suicide victim). The entire film is seen through a first- person perspective, a technique which might seem alarming and perhaps gimmicky at first. However, it's this very technique which leads us to run the gamut of emotions with the protagonist in only 10 minutes time. The director provides the audience with a steady stream of stunning visuals along with an intricate, and sometimes disturbing, sound design which echo feelings ranging from elation to devastation and almost everything in between.
This is a film with has little in the way of dialogue or poignant acting. Instead, it relies on what is perhaps film's greatest boon: the visual experience. The film concludes with somewhat of a twist ending, but it's most interesting aspect is the question it poses throughout: what does one remember in the final moments of life? According to this film, it is the snatched flashes of love, loss, home, expectation, and hope.
If you're in a bit of an existential, thinking mood, or if you just like great cinematography, I'd highly recommend this film.