In Karachi, ambulance drivers nap while waiting for calls to come in. Questo momento di calma contrasta con la brutalità delle loro azioni nei luoghi degli incidenti, annegamenti o omicidi, che non vedremo mai - in ogni caso, non realmente.
As here, the spectacle of violence and misfortune exists only through words, in dreams, or reconstructed for a TV show. Sangue finto, ma sofferenza reale.
That of the ambulance drivers confronted with death every day, that of the victims whose setbacks are mercilessly replayed for the entertainment of all, finally that of a society that drives its members to throw themselves off a bridge or poison their family.
This off-screen irrigates the powerful reflection implemented by Shehrezad Maher who, over these sequences, constructs a dialectic that opposes memory and fiction, traumatism and fascination, whose permeable frontiers we permanently cross.
The attention to the rituals, whether it's repainting an ambulance or rehearsing a scene inspired by a news item, then takes on full meaning, that of an internalised violence whose roots can be revealed by film alone.
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This Shaking Keeps Me Steady
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