Given its incredible and complex use of sound, which is never easy to describe or analyze, HYPOSTATIC UNION is far more difficult to write about than the previous short film. If VOLTAGEN (the filmmakers other short horror film) made wicked poetry out of images, this highly charged work is a visual and especially aural assault.
This two minute piece involving a blind man (Justin Meeks) wandering a deserted township, who sits down to be greeted by hysterical religious visions is just as edgy as VOLTAGEN in content and equally explosive in style. Who was it that said 'when the great is contained in the small its intensity becomes greater'? They were probably right. After the remarkably eerie and desolate start, viewers should not hope for it to settle down. The blind man's transition to the preacher is a shocking one, the violent soundtrack emphasizing the unappealing vehemence of his belief system. For this, sound designer Justin Baker deserves mention.
Explosive shrieking, engine noises and electronic distortions represent the Preacher's rantings, matched by Meeks' contorted facial expressions, who plays that role with fanatic zeal. With pasty face makeup and eye shadow, Meeks has the look of a silent movie actor. Indeed, there's no dialogue in this film, only visuals and sound effects, drawing further links with 1920s silent film. This cracking piece might be just a little noisier, but its strong, physical commitment to imagery including a vicious heart ripping of Jesus Christ gives it a similar potency to symbolic, surrealist classics such as Bunuel and Dali's infamous rage against the accepted order, UN CHIEN ANDALOU.
This two minute piece involving a blind man (Justin Meeks) wandering a deserted township, who sits down to be greeted by hysterical religious visions is just as edgy as VOLTAGEN in content and equally explosive in style. Who was it that said 'when the great is contained in the small its intensity becomes greater'? They were probably right. After the remarkably eerie and desolate start, viewers should not hope for it to settle down. The blind man's transition to the preacher is a shocking one, the violent soundtrack emphasizing the unappealing vehemence of his belief system. For this, sound designer Justin Baker deserves mention.
Explosive shrieking, engine noises and electronic distortions represent the Preacher's rantings, matched by Meeks' contorted facial expressions, who plays that role with fanatic zeal. With pasty face makeup and eye shadow, Meeks has the look of a silent movie actor. Indeed, there's no dialogue in this film, only visuals and sound effects, drawing further links with 1920s silent film. This cracking piece might be just a little noisier, but its strong, physical commitment to imagery including a vicious heart ripping of Jesus Christ gives it a similar potency to symbolic, surrealist classics such as Bunuel and Dali's infamous rage against the accepted order, UN CHIEN ANDALOU.