To their own devices: A reflection on Pablo Larrain's 'The Club'

A man stands on a beach, holding a long pole. He turns in a circle. Tethered to the pole is bit of fur, possibly a rabbit’s. A dog chases the fur. The man drags the fur in the sand. The dog lowers its neck. The man raises the fur high into the air. The dog raises its neck and snout. The dog chases the fur in orbit around the man. He is the center. He is a priest.

Patience & pain in the cinematography of Timbuktu (2014)

The opening sequence is the metaphor for the entire hour and a half film. Some antelope or deer specimen sprints raggedly across the sand. Men with AK-47s and turbans to keep the dust from their eyes fire at it from a truck bed. The truck guzzles gas and desert miles. Until the film's closing sequence, nothing will move this fast, even the moments of violence in between will pass with the slow pain of an hourglass, perhaps it is not even that, but a kidney stone.