Phyllis Bigler

Phyllis Bigler has been going to the Spanish Peaks of Colorado since she was a child. Now in her 90s, she tells her stories.

Actors work with a director to find the rhythm of a scene.

A fragmented collection of independent closed cinemas, in London during lockdown, captured on Super 8mm film.

What are they? What do they seek? When all the lights go out, they will wander. And you will never see them.

Through phone call conversations, an aspiring Ilocano filmmaker relates to his mother working in Italy about his dreams and struggles while documenting the invisible betweenness of their language and distance.

In the year 2020, when the world was forced to ‘change’, I wanted to confirm what changed and what did not change in me. The white mask I wore became the screen projecting my past. My family is sometimes hurt, but support me as I suffer from schizophrenia. We live today while looking for the answer to ‘Who are we?’

It adroitly tells the story of a "counter culture" young man who when his grandfather dies, packs the body in dry ice, and stores him in a Tuff Shed, waiting for the time when advances in modern medicine can bring him back to life. I am not making this up. Then our young men gets deported back to Norway on unrelated charges. Then, quite a while later, people look up and take notice ... "Hey ... there appears to be a frozen dead guy in that shed over there."

An animated interview piece with Lo-Fi Pop pioneer Martin Newell of The Cleaners From Venus. Martin discusses his ethos, the music industry and the anachronist nature of his work, taking on the guise of a time traveller traversing his 40+ year career.

Disjointed moments from the filmmakers’ daily lives during the past year.  Captured on a 1985 VHS camcorder with color and luminosity distorted by its failing color Newvicon tube. Cut with distorted tape-recorded fragments of nostalgic broadcast television ephemera. Scored by whatever was handy— from an ambient electronic song with a surprising amount of pipe organ (Oneohtrix Point Never - Boring Angel) to midi versions of your favorite SNES soundtrack (Donkey Kong Country – Aquatic Ambience, Opening, and Treetop Rock) to a not-quite-right rendition of a song that will make you want to say “Oh, Angelo, that’s tearing my heart out!” (Xiu Xiu – Falling). A voyeuristic peak at home movies that exist somewhere between soon to be forgotten and forgotten long ago. The occasional dot matrix time stamps in the corner of the footage somehow make it harder to place in time.