Starring : Babette Masson, Harry Holtzman, Laurent Fraunié
Director : David Michael Clarke
Format : DV-PAL
Filmed on location : Château Gontier, Nantes, Angers
Original soundtrack : Sylvain Beorchia
Voice : David Michael Clarke
Blood from a stone was produced with the support of Le Carré scène nationale de Château Gontier
#01
Enclosed by the urban landscape, two men and a woman wait. They are not together, but they are not far apart. They do not notice each other, but then again, they don't seem to notice anybody else either. And come to that, nobody else seems to notice them.
Enclosed by the urban landscape, two men and a woman wait. They are not together, but they are not alone. The human form is not the only form to punctuate this barren land, but the others are quiet, still and unresponsive.
Enclosed by the urban landscape, two men and a woman wait. They're not waiting for any thing. They're just waiting.
#02
Three actors err in the street. The doors to the theatre had shut for the last time. They were not a bad company. It's just that times had changed, and people were looking for something else to distract them.
Three actors err in the street. The doors to the theatre had shut for the last time. They were not bad actors. In fact, they were very good. They were puppeteers, experts in the manipulation of objects. They could make a bag of rice dance as delicately as a Russian princess, but that didn't count for much in the modern world.
Three actors err in the street. The urban furniture stares back at them, as if to say, " Don't even think about it ". It is time for the objects to avenge the past. The waiting is over. The revolution has finally come.
#03
The film-maker cannot sleep. His bed is too soft. He drinks a cup of coffee, grabs his camera, and heads out into the gentle blue light that introduces the day.
The film-maker cannot sleep. His bed is too soft. Once outside, he heads for the public square, that the city fathers had just rebuilt. He bends down, and touches the stone paving that is still cold from the night. He lies down on the hard granite, closes his eyes, and allows a shiver to run up his spine.
The film-maker cannot sleep. He had missed the moment. As he opened his eyes, the modest urban plaza peeled back like a vast desert. He feels uneasy, a stranger in a foreign land. As the city slowly awakes, he just lies there, watching. Ordinary people start busying about their daily lives. Others just wait.