All our ways of treating night as something to be shunned, something to be kept outside; creating the vacuum for the underbelly we so claim to despise.
It's always the slumber of "day" and never an awakening in its own right.
If this open sanctuary - only occassionaly embellished by our lights - is something we shut our door to, how much else are we keeping out unawares? Must we not invite in the night, in order to make the most of our days?
Cultural imperialism, the unattainable perfection of idealism, how social conservatism is sustained by material deprivation, and a microcosm of how the feminist movement instantaneously went from a wonderful metaphysical goal to unrecognised disillusionment, as the most concrete achievement was the permission to submit oneself to the capitalist mode of production... on top of the formerly established patriarchy. Yay! And oh yeah, getting old sucks too, love conquers all, yadayadayada.
A true marvel and the ultimate example of a film showing…