At
first you can see on
the screen just this: a bunch of letters composed in a strange way.
It's hard to combine them into meaningful words, because these words
seem quite strange. The most strange is the triple S. This is a
rarity, great rarity, something unique. For the first time you can
see three consonants together, in one cluster. Probably the effect of
hissing is not the point here, because this is not the fable about a
snake, quite popular in the beyond-fence countries. So you begin to
suspect this strange arrangement is not accidental – it seems to be
in a relation to what will appear on the screen after. This is what
can happen in the case of titles. Sometimes the title part is more
interesting then the film itself. We shall see what will happen. If
the title part is almost a separate film, it is as a rule different
than the main film. So you can expect that these letters will
disappear and something totally different will appear on the screen.
And you are right – something different will appear, however not
totally different: although the letters are replaced with pictures,
the screen is still divided into the same number of squares. And the
number of the squares is twenty seven. This is not so due to the
number of letters. Because the number of letters is not accidental.
There are twenty seven aspects of everyday life in Bookina Fassso.
What are these aspects? Well, it would be the easiest to make the
list of them, for example: starvation, thirst, food, constipation,
diarrhoea, too-many-spices... and so on – more or less. Something
of that sort. Wouldn't it be indignant? Wouldn't it mean we doubt in
the basic mental abilities of a spectator, we fear that the audience
could not to decipher the most simple associations and metaphors? It
would. So you have to toil and torment a bit. But only a bit. The
task won't be really difficult, and you will need forces for other
puzzles and problems. The composition of the screen (though there is
nothing special and unusual in it – this is a well known effect,
however has never been thought of so consequently that transformed
from an effect into a principle) indicates you will have to deal with
some other formal rigours of fundamental importance for the whole
film. And this is really so. You will notice later there are no
actors. Neither professional, nor amateurs. Ordinary monitoring
cameras have been installed in twenty seven places – they are not
hidden. Everybody knows they are and nobody suffers of it, like
nobody pays attention to cameras installed in a bank or mall, unless
he has bad intentions. Twenty seven films shown simultaneously on one
screen are just ordinary recordings of what's going on within the
scope of a single camera from the dawn till the dusk. The cameras
have been installed neither haphazardly nor intentionally, according
to an exact plan. Each camera was installed at night by a group
consisting of three workers, and they had only two hours to make
everything work properly. So, within two hours the team had to find
the place which seemed for them to be right and install the camera.
There had been no pre-sellection. The teams made no agreements, so it
might happen they installed the cameras one beside another or one in
front of another thus making them observe each other. There was no
time to check everything properly, so errors and troubleshooting were
not a surprise and caused nobody's irritation. Anyway, it is one of
the aspects.... gosh! I was not to reveal the aspects! ….. Next
night the cameras were moved to some other places, to record the next
day in Bookina Fassso. I draw your attention that installing cameras
in the dark is one of those formal rigours which is a result of the
accepted principle of limited accidentality and limited
premeditation. The recorded material has not been edited or mixed,
nothing has been cut away, nothing has been added. The only technical
operation made was to put twenty seven films together on one screen
to enable watching them at the same time. However it doesn't mean the
whole collected material has been used in the films. We don't know
how many days have been recorded. At least more than a dozen, so
EVERYDAY LIFE IN BOOKINA FASSSO consists of the first few days;
EVERYDAY LIFE IN BOOKINA FASSSO 2 consists of the middle few days;
EVERYDAY LIFE IN BOOKINA FASSSO 3 consists of the last few days.
Provided that there will be the sequels. Yet it must be provided so,
because sequels seem inevitable due to the inevitable success of this
film. Why inevitable? Because it is the cheapest revolution in the
history of cinematography! Even a cheaper variant
could be possible.
There's only one camera. It is installed by the rules described
above. Next night the team moves it to another place. The team
doesn't watch the material recorded during the day, nor the members
can ramble and hang around Bookina Fassso when the camera is working
not to make any spot catch their eyes... But it is not so sure
whether this variant is cheaper, due to much longer production. The
sequels
are inevitable also due to some other reasons. The first part
hasn't solved the fascinating mystery of triple S. Well, it
eliminates the well known, among the beyond-fence peoples, fable
about a snake, and suggests it may be an attempt to avoid not nice
associations with ASS, however it is only a suggestion and suspicion,
nothing that could satisfy us.
So, what does the everyday
life in Bookina Fassso look like? Hard to tell. This is caused by the
fact the film shows only a few days. And we don't know what their
relation to other days is – they could be extremely stormy or
extremely calm. It could be raining and somebody watching the film
could come to the conclusion Bookina Fassso is unacceptably wet
country, while it is really very dry country where rain is quite rare
phenomenon, an anomaly surprising all inhabitants enormously, even
stupefying them. This obstacle may be overcome if all 365 days were
be recorded. Unfortunately it only would seem so. One can't tell much
about other years, which may differ significantly from each other.
Let's assume that a few days we have is a sample enough
representative for a period between two catastrophes, assuming also
that after a catastrophe the country comes back to the life style
from before the catastrophe, what may be a wrong assumption although
based on well documented, many years long observations – also well
documented is the opposite assumption about the catastrophe being a
turning point in the history. And what has been revealed? The
inhabitants of Bookina Fassso write books. All of them. Everywhere.
All the time. Yes. They do nothing else – they only write books. Or
they pretend they write.
I wonder what catastrophe
made them write books. I also wonder what catastrophe will make them
stop to write and what they will do instead. Will they read what they
have written?
OK. It's enough of
considerations so introductory and so unnecessary. Let's take a look
at the square number 25. What can we see? Well, what is it? A floor?
What kind of a floor: clay? wooden? dirt? pavement? tiles? ….. or
maybe it's a street? a yard? a path? ....... so wide? there are no
paths so wide – a path must be narrow, otherwise it's not a paths -
- - - So this is a road. Or a large square. Flat and smooth. Rather
smooth. With no bumps. Doesn't remind the moon surface at all. No
rubbish. No dried leaves. No broken twigs. No crumbs. No shells.
Clean. So clean and empty like a blank page. Like a rough paper
sheet. But nobody is writing on it. Nobody writes anything using no
pen or pencil or a simple stick. Lifelessness. A sort of.
All-grasping stupor and paralyse. Let's run away from here ...... The
square number 4. A window. Overlapping images. A street and a room
reflecting in the window pane. An empty street and an empty room.
Nobody is walking along the street. Nobody is sitting in the room.
And nobody is writing. Neither in the room, nor in the street. While
one could crouch at the wall, take a sit on the threshold, on the
stairs and write. Describe this street, for example ...... And the
square number 8? Nobody is writing there, either. Something is
flickering. Something is pulsating. Something is whirling. A crowd?
Dancing crowd? The crowd is dancing. Or rushing frantically. But not
writing. Or writing with itself. Composing itself in a letter.
Another and another. But we can't see it. We can only guess. We would
like it to be so. But we can say or write nothing that would not be
attributed with wishful thinking – all we can see is swarming
........ Fourteen? Ten? Eleven? Nobody is writing. What's going on?
Maybe it's too early? Maybe it's a break? Maybe they think and
meditate. Make plans. Have hidden themselves not to be seen. Writing
is an intimate process, very intimate. Or maybe they have run away.
But they will come back. Let's wait. Let's look carefully. Maybe it
will compose itself in something big. Like a school of little fish
can create a giant fish ...... And a giant fish transforms itself
into a cloud and flies across light grey sky, bit bluish, pale and
gleaming ...... And it falls into a net of branches and twigs of old
fruit trees in the orchard which slowly changes into a forest, into a
jungle ...... a spontaneous forestation of the orchard ....... and
they don't write about it. Nobody writes anything.
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