Agony

The images in this first short film, imbued with intense violence, take on their full meaning when paired with the director’s words, as they were captured in a very specific—and even traumatic—filming context. We therefore give him the floor:

"The initial idea was to film confinement: to understand how and why five people can and want to coexist in such a small and hostile space for months, years, or even a lifetime for some. I wanted to question them about these challenges and push them to their limits, trying to understand them through our differences. Through intersecting portraits, I aimed to highlight the cultural and social diversity present on a trawler—this cramped, isolated place cut off from the world for weeks at a time.

I didn’t initially intend to focus on fishing, but once on board, my plans radically changed. What I thought would be an interview-based film gradually transformed into an experimental observational piece. Having been unable to meet the crew before the first day of filming, it was a risky gamble—one I decided to take. Once on the boat, I quickly realized that dialogue would be difficult.

No one asked my name. They called me ‘little faggot’ because I had long hair. The first two days were physically intense due to seasickness; I barely filmed anything during that time. Once I recovered and had something in my stomach, I started capturing my surroundings to illustrate the violence of the experience I was living. At first, this violence was conveyed through words, but it also manifested in the physical changes I underwent—and, unfortunately, escalated into direct physical aggression against me.

I lost 7 kilos in 7 days out of the 55 I weighed. Disconnected from the world, lost, and with no way to decompress, I instinctively tried to film the beauty and brutality of this place and its practices. Searching for another perspective, I turned to the other beings subjected to violence on this boat: the fish."

This film is, therefore, the account of a failed encounter, where a desire for dialogue collided with a wall of hostility. In this sense, through the clear parallel the filmmaker draws between his own experience and that of the fish, we are led to wonder whether this, too—the dialogue between humanity and marine biodiversity—is yet another failed encounter.

Asking the question is answering it.

Jason Todd
Artistic Director
Tënk