And a Happy New Year

The intention here is concise. Crystal clear. So much so, in fact, that it might almost be characterized by critics as "too simplistic," given how streamlined its narrative is. But don’t be fooled. Mulder quickly asserts his command of cinematic language, carrying a vision that is distinctly his own, and skillfully silences any naysayers. In this respect, it's his subtle use of editing that gets a gold star as it manages to elevate his stripped-down filmic approach with no more than a few well chosen shots. These are sequences pulled from what appears to be an ordinary and quite unremarkable day, yet they gently guide our gaze and quietly lay, brick by brick, the foundation upon which our empathy so naturally settles. What unfolds is an undeniably tender and deeply moving work.

GoPro cameras, attached directly to the collars of domestic dogs, become—thanks to the purity of the device— pathways to empathy. By shifting our perspective to that of these canine companions, the immersion is both total and immediate. An emotional bond is formed in just a few minutes. But the filmmaker goes further. These dogs are highly intelligent. They are sensitive and full of affection. Their gaze is complex and perceptive; they understand the mechanisms of their surroundings. Mulder’s shot precise choices make this understanding so viscerally clear that it’s impossible to ignore. So, when the first fireworks explode and the frame begins to tremble, directly translating the animal’s stress, it’s impossible not to feel the helplessness of their owners—crouched under the table, worried and powerless—trying to soothe the fear that has taken hold.

Jason Todd
Artistic Director
Tënk