BOOLEEN

Penguins are not birds!

The limitless capacity for comparisons in detailed shots, the impulses to release emotional acts from under the canons of the astrological goblet, the nature of jealousy – like a layered featherbed pile above a pea of truth… the pea that can torment us mercilessly at night with the fear of the loss of our youth! Is there a visionary who would not ride in the sledge of Peter Bruegel the Elder?



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Dimitry Bulin's characters, like mutes in sign language, constantly show with their palms the methods of flight-as if debating constantly about the physiological structure of a bird's wing.

No discussion is possible - to each his own bird: the bird-soul, the bird-heart, the bird-gas, the bird-word, the bird-food, the bird-penguin! Letatlin, Leonardo da Vinci winged... The light of the palm in the scene is like a flashing signal: STOP! Like a bright lighthouse, attracting unfocused glances.

The red ticker on the departure board: the palm is the cradle of the written-in-heavens text that has overcome the hearts of unlove!

...with a slowed down speed of narration - your neck is getting tired of waiting for the next lit word: attaching a theatrical set of gestures to the shot creates the illusion of a dramatic wholeness - we all will die young!

People are not birds! And not even emperor penguins! Only our palms - distant relatives of wings - are adapted to express the plasticity of bird flight, which will never enable us to get off the ground...