The sublime slowness of the characters’ generally vapid actions lends Da Corte’s visuals a feeling of ritual importance, a sense of a mystical understanding of the characters’ own basicness. Musson’s subtitles perch precariously on top of this reflecting pool, testing the depth of its waters, goading the denizen characters who populate the screens, and in turn the viewer, making pedestrian and utterly familiar unspoken longings and uncertainties.
If the artists’ two egos seem to be at occasional odds their discordance seems to serve a larger purpose, an idea of multiplicities of meaning, of cultural contradictions. Da Corte’s suave images need Musson’s hyperaware text to disrupt them, and Musson’s paranoia floats gently along Da Corte’s beautifully constructed mirror.