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Presents
Canada / 1:30:00 / 1981 / sound / colour
"The apparent vertical scratch in celluloid that opens 'Presents' literally opens into a film within the film. When its figures awakens into a woman in a 'real' set, the slapstick satire of structural film begins. It is not the camera that moves, but the whole set, in this first of three material 'investigations' of camera movement. In the second, the camera literally invades the set; a Plexiglas sheet in front of the dolly crushes everything in its sight as it zooms through space. Finally, this monster of formalism pushes through the wall of the set and the film cuts to a series of rapidly edited shots as the camera zigzags over lines of force and moving fields of vision in an approximation of the eye of nature. Snow pushes us into acceptance of present moments of vision, but the single drumbeat that coincides with each edit in this elegiac section announces each moment of life's disappearance." - Phillip Monk, Art Express

"...the camera seems to follow her progress as the actress walks to the door. We're so used to reading this kind of lateral motion as panning that even though the relation between set and camera is reversed, that latter is what seems to be mobile. But it's as if Snow's camera is radiating a force field. The statuesque actress totters on her high heels, lamps swing precipitously, the furniture lurches, the walls shudder, and a potted plant topples. Absurdly, a small phonograph is playing a Bach cello piece and as the action demands more rapid 'planning,' the needle jumps all over the record. Suddenly, the floor pitches upward in a simulation of a camera tilt - objects slide off the table, which soon goes careening after them. When Snow's camera finally does decide to make a move, it's to complete the demolition of the set. Dollying behind a Plexiglas shield the camera resolutely explores the living room, casually ploughs the remaining furniture through the flats. The sequence lasts about 15 minutes and its dramatizing of the perceptual disruption of a moving camera is one of the most brilliant sight gags I've ever seen." - J. Hoberman, Village Voice, 1981
Canadian Filmmakers Distribution Centre
32 Lisgar Street
Toronto ON Canada M6J 0C9
Monday - Thursday / 10:00 - 18:00
(416)  588 - 0725
Canadian Filmmakers Distribution Centre
32 Lisgar Street
Toronto ON Canada M6J 0C9
Monday - Thursday / 10:00 - 18:00
(416)  588 - 0725