Sarah Francis

At night, in an open playground, family members gather to discuss the state of their family life. We are unsure whether what they tell each other is true but they have the freedom to invent stories, cast blame, express gratitude and pose questions. The space becomes a material playground for their ideas. None of the characters in the film speaks on camera; their voices are always off-screen as though coming from another time or place. The characters come and go, rise and fall on swings or turn back and forth in circles, and through such repeated two-part actions they lead us to voices from other places: voices of conversations elsewhere or their internal voices. The film quickly transports us beyond its physical playground setting to the imaginary terrains created by the voices. At one point a voice might bring us back to the family home; at another it might lead us to other spaces, spiriting us from the private to the public realm in a flash. The result is an hour of playfulness which evolves into a form of choreography that allows us to discover how the characters interact and offers us access to the virtual spaces that form the focus of their lives.