What matters is not composition but instrumentation: the way the sounds are treated, layered, lacquered. The reverberation of analogue synthesis as opposed to the cleanness of digital recording. Random experimentation. Mistakes. I watched as Ed, stealing sounds from the pits of tenement piping or the cacophonous mass of his industrial orchestra, collected raw material for his own brand of aural alchemy.
In strict opposition to current trends in movies, I wanted to tell a story as quietly as possible. The result, in every aspect, is a minimalist film: from Julianne Moore’s courageous simplicity and Alex Nepomniaschy’s immaculate camera, to the bristling composure of James Lyons’ cutting and the quiet force of Ed’s music. This restraint provides spaces for the person watching, resulting in a film that cannot be read literally. Instead, the steps we take toward understanding Carol’s illness are weighted with a sense of the inexplicable – of a mystery unfolding. Ed’s music plays an essential role in that mystery.
You will never be able to experience everything. So, please, do poetical justice to your soul and simply experience yourself.
Don’t bend; don’t water it down; don’t try to make it logical; don’t edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.