There is, indeed, the unspeakable
Two cubes mysteriously stand hovering above one another in a foggy grey sky when a man appears and the upper box of the two converts into a rank and pinion steering rack. Instead of triggering an explosion, a heavy sphere in slow-motion sinks down into the incubator below, where noises of industrial processing culminate in the creation of a dark opening from which nothing emerges other than a moderate growling.
Scene two: An ocean soundscape is heard but there is no water in sight, just a lushly drawn forest and green field of grass gently rolling, in stark contrast to the weighty aquarelle sky of the first scene. This time around, the cube is a spherically shaped bunker from which the next person emerges, to lower a lever depriving the world of electricity. Blood and darkness spread out over a broad landscape where the cube of an electrical outlet is transformed into a small sugar cube in a teacup, gently stirred in a calm circular motion by a silver spoon. The prospect is presented of possibly incorporating a condensed world, albeit constituted by total disorder.
And so it is that There is, indeed, the Unspeakable – derived from a poem – is an apt title. It signals the inexplicable phenomena and associations unleashed by Sina Saadat and Marzieh Emadi's cut-out animation film – ranging from mysterious hatcheries and torture chambers to the effect of consciousness-expanding substances. (Melanie Letschnig)
Translation: Eve Heller