Note: timestamps are keyed to the Netflix streaming presentation of this film. I have chosen (and I am aware that this choice itself is an act of interpretation, blah blah blah) to ignore the various motion graphics, logos and company names that precede the first formal shot, so the movie’s starting point actually occurs at 00:00:40. If you are not viewing along with me on Netflix streaming, your timestamps may vary.
00:40 – 00:50
Blackness and techno music. Wait. Does this count as music? Just a drum machine with the knob turned to ‘cokehead heartbeat,’ about 14 beats per second. I tried to count. It’s maybe more.
At 00:41, a high-pitched whistle added to the drumbeat makes the soundtrack definitively musical (albeit annoyingly so). A hand squeezing itself into a Latex glove swims into view, in black and white, jerky, blurry, like an early film of a jellyfish or Aurora Borealis, on the left-hand side of the screen.
Another hand, already-gloved, helps.
They are male hands, maybe.
“Squeezing” is not the right word, though, is it? The method used by the hand to get into the glove, actually, is as follows: it opens its fingers, making itself larger, then shuts them, thrusting deeper into the glove during the shut-finger phase, while the other hand pulls at the mouth of the glove, up by the wrist. Repeat. I am surprised by the silky texture of the glove, which is surely only a trick of the light or the cinematography.
There is also the illusion of a light dusting of powder on the exterior of the gloves, something I’ve noticed about Latex gloves in real life. Or maybe Latex gloves really do come powdered? I don’t know.
As the hand fucks itself down (yes, that is the correct phrase, isn’t it) into the glove, the camera moves downward and right-ward, following it, so that by 00:50 the hand-in-glove fills the whole screen.
Tomorrow: the opening of a box!