By Cornelis Hähnel. The breakfast table attest to the aftermath of food intake. An empty honey jar, egg shells, used knifes. On one side there is the lighting of the first cigarette, on the other side there is a yoghurt for dessert. In the background someone strums on a piano. New coffee is made. The woman sits at the table, lost in thoughts. Through the window you can see that the change of seasons has already started. Something bothers her, keeps her face nervous and unstill, but every attempt to put her thoughts into words ends only in introductory and empty set phrases of conflict resolution. The guests seem to be of the unanimous opinion that she shouldn't wrack her brains about it. The question of who wants another coffee surfaces again. But her doubts don't let go of her, you can feel that. And all the time she didn't want anything. That's just the problem, the others tell her. Coffee is ready. She looks into her cup, takes a spoonful of sugar, stirs with concentration. With every turn of the spoon a thought seems to turn as well, her tension is rising, condensing to a drumming noise. Then there's the coup. A joke. Laughter. Everyone's ready to leave the flat. Liberated and relaxed they go to take in the fresh air.

ZUURSTOF elevates an everyday situation through the means of formal strictness to a meditation on human anxieties. The camera keeps its unblinking eye on the protagonists, while the further action is being cut off at the brink of the image. Only short montage sequences give an impression of the surroundings. In her speechlessness or rather in her difficulty articulating her thoughts the protagonists evokes a diffuse, almost threatening feeling of helplessness and doubts. Unable to force their questions into the right direction the casual gathering of friends seems to suffocate underneath a blanket of hopelessness. Director [Jet] Andree increases the directorial tension ever more, thus growing the audience's insecurity about what exactly is about to happen – until the flipping it all over into a tone of liberated lightness. Without having to spell it out the director manages to create a feeling of emotional emptiness situated within every individual and independent of the situation, which can dissolve again just as fast at any moment. The common laughter here constitutes a cathartic moment for the portrayed breakfast community as well as for the audience, signifying a departure into the outer world. The change from the inside to the outside not only takes place spatially but also emotionally.

ZUURSTOF moves within the interstitial places, the upheavals of any kind, and tries to make the moment of change visible. So in the end, after the credits, the doors open one final time, the actors have disappeared, crew members have now taken their place in the picture. The time of the cinematic illusion is over, reality breaks through into the cinematic realm in form of the shooting crew. The audience is consciously confronted with the illusion of filmmaking, the medium is reflected. It is an elegant metamorphosis pointing again towards the importance of change and the interstitial moments that are as necessary for the evolution of the soul as the air to breathe.

Links

• OXYGEN (B 2008. Jet Andree)
• Dichotomic Heart – An Interview with Jet Andree
• A Brilliant Dose of Irony – Cornelis Hähnel about the Belgium film market