How can a repetitive act inscribe itself on language?

The film consists of two different iterations of a script about departure. The text was written to accommodate different physical activities that involved a degree of cooperation. The language is meant to adapt to the action, in a relationship that is parasitic or symbiotic by turns. The activity itself—knife throwing—never gets named.

Everything becomes a proxy. The loop of the action of throwing knives could pre-empt an algorithmic edit. The bodies are static while the words describe movement. Again, actors were asked to apply flat tones to their speech such that the primary emotion would come from the action. Here knives create the frame but also edit it. Initially, the idea was to cut each time a knife dropped. In this way, actors could control the pacing of their performance in the edit. This protocol however was superseded by a consensus that emerged on set—that we preferred that the knives remain in the air. On an embodied level, this became a social contract that each subsequent iteration reaffirmed, creating an emergent as opposed to directed narrative. As such, this mode of montage became a reason to believe in the action. The danger of the knives, and the senselessness of throwing them back and forth became votive towards something that only the repeated action could name.