Leigha Mason

In Comma Boat, we're stuck in a mock-authoritarian fantasy--a power trip. The film centers around a director-character played by Trecartin who oscillates between feelings of omnipotence and self-doubt. As if a post-human, post-gendered reincarnation of the Fellini character in 8 ½, the director gloats and frets about professional and ethical transgressions. "I know I lied to get ahead," he admits at one point. "I've made up so many different alphabets just to get ahead in my field." The director is fancier now, but the fear nags that he might be "repeating" himself "like a dumb soldier ova and ova and ova and ova." The meta-connection to the artist's own career, while obvious, is also a decoy. All art, at some level, is about the artist. Here, reflexivity is the surface level, providing a decodable veneer that encases something more unsettling and complex. Single-channel and 3-channel versions.

The film focuses on the life of Jenny who has, according to many of the other characters, become too “left-of-center” while pursuing her interests.

An alienated girl struggles to piece together the events of the previous night over 24 hours in NYC, only to be reminded that nothing is ever as it seems in a city where everyone is a self-made avatar, and violence looms like a halo.

An alienated girl struggles to piece together the events of the previous night over 24 hours in NYC, only to be reminded that nothing is ever as it seems in a city where everyone is a self-made avatar, and violence looms like a halo.