A slow trawling of motives, of connections between the characters in the film and in their world—the world of South Africa since the late 1980s. There is if not a deliberate blindness then certainly a bluntness in the progression of the films: bluntness both in the crude charcoal and fat erasures that are inevitable when using these materials, and in the unrefined succession of images. In the expectation or resignation that in the end, crude or sharp, well or ill, the constellation of images, story, and sound will reveal who one is (who I am, although the first person singular feels an impertinence, or at any rate inadequate. One of the things the films showed was that Soho and Felix were both close to me—not so much a self divided, but the artist as mediator between several different factions of the self. In Stereoscope Soho divides in two; in History of the Main Complaint he becomes eight or nine).