Bodil Göransson

A girl is having a smoke. Her moped has broken down. A guy is out walking too many dogs. A bunch of girls are playing football near a canyon. Dusk is falling and the magnificent cinematography lends a feeling that something greater than ourselves is at hand.

The mapping of a desolate house in southern Sweden encased in iron and cement, standing as a monument of one man's loneliness and paranoia.