Frames Per Second

Imagine if you will, the structure of film. Each frame is slick, compact, slim. It slides by, undetectable to the naked eye, and gone until repeated in viewing. Thousands flash before us and we are absorbed by the illusion produced. The illusion, upon completion, is retained in the memory of the body. Time passes. The memory fades, until the film is viewed again. The thousands of still pictures flash by yet again.

 Gone. 

Back.

 Gone.

 No one looks to the individual frame, but the film as a whole. They view this as the essence of the cinema. But it isn’t. It’s the details. If one were to interchange each individual frame with a random image, and commence viewing of the film, an incomprehensible mash of indecipherable images would converge. Anxiety would build, followed by frustration, anger and a sense of loss. It would feel incomplete. The Jes Grew of film isn’t the structure of the film as a whole, but the tiny details. Each frame.

 Per.

 Second.

 It is the little moments, the ones that flash before your eyes before you know it, that complete the film, and make it something worth viewing.

 Without.         

The.   

   Frame.   

      You.     

   Diminish.  

      The.       

Whole.