Perennial Light

Perennial Light (2024) is a wondrous experience. So unlike anything being produced in the mainstream, it’s an art film which epitomises what’s interesting about experimental filmmaking. Told without dialogue or conventional narrative, this independent Irish movie paints a seemingly autobiographical portrait of one man’s life – from his troubled youth up to adulthood. From the tragedies that befall him, to fragments we see of family life in a rural setting... you get the sense that you’re witnessing a flow of memories, recalled with both nostalgia and melancholy.

 

The film is a visual feast, shot fully in black-and-white; but one of the most intriguing elements is how drawings and animatics are used to provide emotional context for our protagonist’s journey - infusing these wistful, monochromatic images with deeper meaning. We’re shown childlike illustrations depicting everything from love and excitement for the world, to the darker, more reflective moments in the character’s psyche. However, it’s not so simple as ‘representing the character’s thoughts and feelings’: the pictures (like the rest of the visuals) provide an all-encompassing sense of a universal experience; how nature too plays a part in the trajectory of a life.

 

Colin Hickey has managed to create an operatic drama with the simplest of tools - using what’s around him as subjects that may evoke a feeling. Much of the piece is structured through imagery of animals, greenery, as well as the weather. It almost goes without saying that the Terrence Malick influences can be felt throughout (a compliment of the highest regard), and it’s certainly Koyaanisqatsi (1982)-esque in its posing of the organic with the industrial; but comparisons can also be drawn to artists and directors you may not expect... For example, Mike Mills’ emotional short film I Am Easy to Find (2019) shares many similarities -- the chronicling of a person’s psychological life, contemporary monochrome cinematography, and use of music. One is also reminded of the recently departed Terence Davies (one of the greatest filmmakers to ever live) whose meditative style served as a mode of self-exploration, very much a form of remembering.

 

It’s a testament to the level of craft and creativity present in Perennial Light that so many great visual artists can be felt in its making; but there’s also just as much to be said about the cinematography alone. The black-and-white is one thing: presented with stunning contrast and depth -- accentuating detail in the shadows and highlights to harness the full effect -- it in no way feels like a cinematic gimmick. Yet what’s more important is it’s a movie made by someone who clearly understands composition. There are many frames that are overwhelming for their use of silhouette, layering, and starkness; Hickey knows how to make an impact by arranging subjects with purpose.

 

I’d like to commend this movie for using digital to actively experiment. For those of us who prefer the appearance of film, it’s often more impressive if a digital piece effectively ‘does its own thing’, striving to demonstrate its own unique sensibility as opposed to replicating the classical format. Namely, the use of drone shots may - in lesser hands - feel amateurish or become distracting, but its success in this project is due to a precise, painterly quality. By using a bird’s eye view, individuals are placed against their expansive surroundings... there’s a drama to it; there’s an elegance to it. The use of motion blur/smoothing is another gamble, yet it just inherently works – as if, through the mind’s eye, what we’re seeing is impressionistic, faces and textures blurred by the past.

 

The term ‘tone poem’ is thrown around loosely within film criticism, frequently misplaced and irksome; however, if any feature-length movie were to fit into that label, one supposes it would look something like Perennial Light. More than anything else, it’s a combination of moods and ideas represented through music, editing, and visuals (I haven’t even mentioned the sound design, which is expertly done and gives a visceral, immersive quality to the images). But there’s personality behind the form and a sincerity in every frame. A dream-like delight, it’s a pleasure from beginning to end.