A loudspeaker broadcasts an irreversible announcement: Judgment Day has been brought forward. No one responds. No one seems to be listening. Authority has been emptied of pathos, the voice has become a function, liturgy has been transformed into procedure.
Shot on expired black-and-white Super 8 film, with an old digital color video camera and archival sound material, the film traverses a fragmented and opaque reality, where the substance of the image is consumed along with the world it is supposed to represent.
The film presents itself as a damaged liturgical object,
a magnetic relic that still transmits, but from an elsewhere already emptied of grace.
A fragment of the end, caught in the act of its stalemate.
