Habitat

Organic and regular shapes, corners and geometry, leaves and branches - juxtaposition, superimposition, contrasts and spaces. The sound might be aeroplane engines, burning, the wind.

There is glass-clad and brick-built, reflected trees, interstitial trees. Tumbling, unidentified towers, and somewhere along the interminable visions an interior, a sleeping dog - home, but is it welcome?

Though Robert Todd's film shows his talents in various roles behind the camera, it suffers in a programme with other films that create a sense of unease - too much of the same tones, perhaps, the difference between a compilation and an album of panpipe cover versions.

It's nice, or rather not nice - discomfiting, disquieting, disjointed. There is an extant sense of mystery, perhaps trending to dread, but here it is not enough. This is an angle, one of many in the film, and while individually it may be acute when repeated it is obtuse. There's confusion as to location, even time, but for all that it feels out of place, that place is perhaps not here.