Bolex Mon Amour

An urban blue summer sky in the background. A close-up portrait. The head is tilted slightly downwards. The gaze is fixed on the camera – curious, expectant and demanding. The protagonist takes her first step, moving towards the camera. Her gaze becomes longing; the camera does not pan away. On the contrary, they draw ever closer to one another. The opening sequence could be taken from a summer road movie that promises a good love story, yet the shot remains – as does the piercing gaze, which shifts in expression, oscillating between focused, irritated, aloof, scrutinising, desirous, lustful, cool and sexy. This variation is reflected in the repetitions of the colour-filtered multiple exposures, which are given a rhythmic structure through lens changes, single frames, blackouts, slow motion and time-lapse sequences, cross-fades and much more: the structural score explores all the technical possibilities of the Bolex, arranged on one film roll and edited in camera. The effect is heightened because the sound – in line with the camera technique – remains silent. In the end, their relationship, which is certainly charged with eroticism, dissolves; the camera swivels 180 degrees and, in a shot through the mirror, reveals that the protagonist is standing both in front of and behind the camera – on a treadmill. The occasionally yearning gaze is never directed at a fictional counterpart behind the fourth wall, but at the Bolex itself. Not a road movie, but a love song without sound – the glances are the notation: Bolex Mon Amour. (Stefanie Reisinger)