In Crockett’s Fall, Anna Hughes brings together printmaking, animation and sound to explore the recurrent internal narratives that plague an anxious mind. The film takes us through the psychological sturm und drang of Crockett, the faceless, genderless protagonist, whose presence provides the audience with a way into a film that is both deeply personal and conceptually universal.
The opening image, later revealed to be the head of the protagonist, contains the kernel of Crockett’s Fall: a jagged wave, emblazoned across a sand-coloured canvas, tears itself apart; the fragments dance around in a circle before finally reuniting. The sense of fracture created by this image is sustained throughout the piece by Hughes’ use of sound. Her simple score, beaten out on an assortment of disparate instruments, is brutal and repetitive, evoking the disconnection and discomfort caused by cyclical thought processes. This effect is amplified by the sparse script which, distilled into a series of disconnected soundbites, emanates from various different points in the auditorium.
This abrasive soundscape provides an unsettling backdrop to a montage of animated prints that tell a universal story of struggle and isolation. The tactility and physicality of the prints and the low-fi nature of the sound lend the entire piece a handmade quality that amplifies the subject matter; it feels personal, it feels authentic.
This is the film’s greatest strength. Crockett’s Fall deftly negotiates the divide between the personal and the universal, addressing widely resonant themes while retaining a deeply intimate feel. Through a skilful integration of disciplines, Hughes creates a familiar sense of discomfort and draws the audience in, enabling us to see ourselves in the film and the film in ourselves.
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