Tricolor

Not done through a camera, this film - apparently the medium itself attacked by hand, but there are artifacts aplenty - near the start is what appears to be a camera flash and there is the rattle of a projector.

This is sensory spoofing, noise on the screen and noise in the background. It sounds at times like a B-movie studio's science fiction sound effects reel. It looks, at times, like last night's dishes, or an expressionist parable of cooperation - ketchup and mustard work together to sew a hot dog.

There is a flash of a documentary filmed inside a vinaigrette; the whistling wind over cell-membraneous artifacts of exposure - the frost-bitten ravages of Antartic biology "I can't feel mitosis". There are streaks, and industrial noises. The swamp came alive and spoke with damaged bluegrass records, all mud and pitch and bass.

Martina Heyduk did it all, but the audience interprets - it's an inkblot, almost literally, and wallowing in the speculation its randomness generates is diverting. It is technically fascinating, and likely mostly of interest only to those who have technical fascinations. In amongst others of its kind, that genre called 'experimental' though one rarely finds out what was hypothesised, it's entertaining enough. In isolation it is bereft of all but the meanings one chooses to invest in it, and there are innumerable options that offer greater return.