8 minutes / Color / Sound / HD /USA-UK

voices: Amy Drummond and Herbert Von Schild



Using the Japanese literary genre of Zuihitsu as it's method, with the title alluding to the final chapter in Raul Ruiz's 'Poetics Of Cinema 2', the film imagines a very contemporaneous take on Proust’s The Fugitive. Projected from the point of view of the fugitive in question, where she is an artificially intelligent ‘companion’ designed to please men, she runs away from a Vienna-based composer who had stolen her from the laboratory in Edinburgh.

Zuihitsu, which translates roughly as “a running brush” does not rely on any particular subject, instead it's the movement of thoughts that guide the way. The style consists of fragmented ideas that respond to the author’s surroundings. Thoughts jump from one to the other by association.  Approaching filmmaking in the way of Zuihitsu is to feel the process of looking and listening. A process that comes natural to holding a camera without any purpose but to record the moments as they happen.  The textures of the camera operator’s mind become more enlivened without preset themes or subjects to focus on. There is no central point. Instead there are parts that interact with one another. Like a paper collage the meaning is revealed through the making.

Filming "Zuihitsu" is viewing form creating content. 


What is cinema now, where everything can and is made ‘video’?

One doesn’t have to read Raul Ruiz to be aware that outside of the mainstream practice of using motion pictures to recreate histories, tell tales, or distract with ‘action filled adventures’, there has always existed an unmapped territory of free-form Cinema. 

With the wealth of new portable digital video cameras of various styles and with different levels of image quality the filmmaker can create a film ‘on the fly’ that frees the viewer from the dictates of story, character, and plot. Collecting images and sequences that catch the attention, like collecting shells and rocks on a walk along the sea, the mind is drawn to moments and images without presupposed meaning. Viewing and reviewing disparate sequences over months or, as in the case of this particular film, years, a narrative gradually emerges. One that reflects a few of the millions of random thoughts that have clouded the everyday moments of cognition. 

The instantaneousness of portable filmmaking freed from the lure of recording ‘clips’ for web channels or social media offers a fulfillment of the promises of early Cinema as an audio-visual composer's art form, and a wish fulfillment of Astruc’s 'Camera Stylo' and Tarkovsky’s 'Cinematic Typewriter'. 


Secure previewing of the film is available upon request.