Disquiet, or: Stripping away a sense of meaning and building isolation in its place

Disquiet (2011)

Directed by S.J. Ramir

***SPOILERS***

Opening with a low whistling wind against an array of malnourished trees, you can expect S.J. Ramir’s Disquiet to be anything but hopeful. One tree occupies the middle of the frame, and then suddenly several appear, only the separation between them seems endless set against the infinite darkness swallowing the background. But then there's a man starts walking towards the camera. Still shrouded in the grainy image—a staple of Ramir’s in his small collection of short films depicting isolation—suddenly there’s a different air to the proceedings. The opening shot depicts nothing, but the impending footsteps are magnified, creating the sense that he’s walking towards something. Instead of isolation, there’s a genuine sense of hope and intrigue, lending meaning to this man’s plight and ultimate destination.

And the intrigue continues: as darkness ensues and the wind continues to howl, green suddenly fills the screen. A mammoth white mound rests in the distance—amidst the endless green and simple beauty, this anomaly creates fascination. The image is then paired with a lone plant, and we see the beginning of the descent. While Disquiet will ultimately end melancholic and hopeless, establishing barriers and breaking them down is key—there’s a burning connotation of value surrounding this lonesome man, attaching his existence with some degree of importance, pairing the commonplace plant with a massive display of robustness. There are images of an ever-stretching desert, mimicking this man’s long journey and breadth of land at hand, just before a final shot of a displaced house, steeped in utter emptiness. Bookending this film, the house and the lone tree built away from each other and the beguiling feeling of loneliness, only to stretch the landscapes surrounding this man to breathtaking heights, and then strip them down to absolute banality—as empty and meaningless as any passing piece of scenery could be.

And just as this new atmosphere is established, the footsteps fade back in and then man walks away from the screen. While still walking towards something, it seems much more prominent that this man is walking away from nothing. While the first shot of the man created tension, the final image erases any sense of direction, leaving only isolation and despondence. A striking, lasting image, the man walks down the road as the blackness skirting the edge of the frame slowly encompasses him, every bit as suffocating as the passing, unforgiving landscape accompanying his journey.

S.J. Ramir's Disquiet can be viewed on Mubi.com here.