My first cinematic memory isn't quite a memory, but a family story. When I was a child, I would regularly force my poor mother and her friends to watch the opening number of The Lion King, then demand it to be rewound so we could watch it again. I made this film in a contemplative mood, with certain ideas flowing in my head and a certain nostalgia guarding me from the uncertainty of the future. As I was assembling it, I realized these ideas of analog and digital, impermanence, and the images that helped form me were not quite enough. I couldn't run away from the defining event of my life. This is for my father, overcome by life too young. Though the more I watch, I realize it is also for my mother, who has cared so deeply and profoundly for us in his wake.
My first cinematic memory isn't quite a memory, but a family story. When I was a child, I would regularly force my poor mother and her friends to watch the opening number of The Lion King, then demand it to be rewound so we could watch it again. I made this film in a contemplative mood, with certain ideas flowing in my head and a certain nostalgia guarding me from the uncertainty of the future. As I was assembling it, I realized these ideas of analog and digital, impermanence, and the images that helped form me were not quite enough. I couldn't run away from the defining event of my life. This is for my father, overcome by life too young. Though the more I watch, I realize it is also for my mother, who has cared so deeply and profoundly for us in his wake.
Nick Kline
,
