The beginning is another movie, an american noir of the early 60s: gutted and disemboweled,
tortured and "detourned" images organize themselves into precarious and evolving structures,
intertwined in multiples and twisted plots in a state of permanent collapse.
The aim is to incite the explosion of a closed system through a dispositive of audiovisual
implosions. Forget what you see while you are actually watching it, and soak in a vibrating, optical
ancestry. A scream without a reason.
The human eye can see the world through photoreceptive cells on the retina, a membrane sensitive
to light emitted or reflected by objects. Light travels through time and space at a certain speed. For
example, sunlight takes 8 minutes to get to our eyes, while from other stars it takes several lightyears.
Also the light generated or reflected by an object or a person on Earth takes a certain time, even if
short and infinitesimal. There is a distance (short, eternal) between us and our image of reality.
Even between thought and action, between thought and language, there is a similar lapse, necessary
to transmit the signal via electrical impulses from the brain to different parts of the body.
“Miss Candace Hilligoss' flickering halo” is a film about this distance, about the interval
simultaneously separating and uniting, the silence between words, the black between pictures. It 's a
film against the dialectical opposites in cinema, assembled according to the Heisenberg's
uncertainty principle and the use of the phenomenon of retinal persistence as an expressive tool.