Faced with the flat, orderly reality of the screen, life outlines become blurred; once you have stepped out of the darkness of the cinema hall, the moment you have stood up from the armchair facing the tv screen, the world of lights and shadows, i.e. that of films, vies for your own person with incredible conviction. The film ends, time is suspended and engages in an eerie relationship with space. Life itself continues chaotically, in the absence of or looking for a story. It would appear that films criticise the lack of coherence of daily existence; beyond the screen, while reality hides terrible things, the images you have watched are slow to leave your involuntary memory. You are now the body in which the life of the film pulses, you become its measurement unit.
To the same extent as a photograph deals time a blow, a quick succession of snapshots can crush it.