Now we’re talkin’. A bland looking modern school room (Farleigh Dickenson, I later learned) is invaded by aliens who like to say “no.” No, not quite. A relentless 90 degree pan back and forth in one of the least likely photogenic spaces. The windows become characters. The clicks of the camera the greatest dialogue you’ve ever heard. When the panning becomes so furious and everything is all blur I was surprised to find my self rocking my head as though I were listening to Megadeth. Sexual in its use of buildup and release, but also a little too human, as rhythms are interrupted and patterns are awkwardly destroyed. Like “Wavelength” there are hints at an offscreen narrative, but it has less bite because the setting is less ominous and, more importantly, the camera is doing so much that there’s little time to ponder the implications. This is not a failure on ‘s part, rather further commentary on what changes movement brings to our perception. Dig?