In the cold Iceland air, a young man plays the piano. A young woman, wearing headphones, lies on her coat as she sleeps on the ground. She sits up and rubs her shoulder as a trail of smoke wafts over last night’s campfire.
He gets out of his pickup truck and treks to the mountains. The ends of the piano keys burn. She picks up a charred key and puts her hand over eye. She gazes up at the gloomy sky and raises her hands while she stands on a rock near the sea.
She walks on the road and then breaks into a run. She starts to dance on the black, chipped rock. The sea and mountains flashes, cut into two sideways sections. A triangle forms in the back for the sea. However, the mountains remain the same.
She rises in the foggy ocean and floats on the water during the evening. Her arms spread out, she falls several times in the black abyss and lands the water. She stands up in the water, the sky turned a fatal red. The water glistens in a golden glow as she floats. The piano continues to burn on the ocean. She swishes the water around in a circle.
The DJ listens as he adjusts his turntable. She and two other people stand in the water draped in aquatic blue light. A kelly green dot follows the DJ. An aquatic blue pin wheel flashes as they perform a routine in the ocean.
At night, she dances in front of a lavender lit car. The piano continues to burn.
Her fingers burning red and feet swollen from the cold, the young woman runs along the vast road. The sweat warms her body and then she begins to dance. The space tightens as she begins her routine. The ocean becomes a straight line and flows into an uknown triangular void.
It transports her to an ominous nighttime swim. She floats in the water, the heat from the searing piano warming her body. The endless ocean seems to be in pieces as she stays within the claustrophobic boxy area of the now foreboding sea.
It extends to an obscure wooded part of the mountains where a late night rave shifts and sputters to a melancholy high. She continues to float in the ocean alone, waiting for answers that she won’t ever hear.
Director: N/A Year: 2016
Pam Avoledo’s love of pop culture began in 1999 with the message boards dedicated to shows on the CW (then WB). She graduated from Oakland University in 2006 with a Bachelor’s degree in Journalism.
When she is not debating whether Dawson should’ve ended up with Joey, she looks at cute dog memes on social media.