Super 8mm/DCP - b/w
Abacuc lives in a railway house, with a garden circumscribed by the train tracks. He doesn’t speak a word, but distant voices can be heard from the phone. He spends his days walking around the cemetery, the only comforting place that seems to shelter him from the city. The man wanders among the tombstones corroded by time, seeking long forgotten names that bring him back to a time forever gone. He’s “the last man,” maybe a survivor.
The idea for the film originated from the monumental nature of ruins. Ruins and monuments, fused in the same body, condensed in one sight. Mindful of the debris of avant-garde movements, I don’t want to give into the seduction of this new form of classicism masked under new guises and stories. So here is a motionless and photographic film, where camera and narration are no longer required to move. The preexisting reality is documented without any pretense for truth. Fiction and documentary exceed their boundaries and come together in other realms, like the world of puppet shows, theatre of the absurd, and photography.