With hardly any dialogue and a strong emphasis on image and rhythm, a feverish allegory emerges in which communication fails and meaning constantly shifts. The result is an intriguing, at times alienating viewing experience that compels the viewer to draw their own connections—in a universe where silence speaks louder than words. Time of the Heathen thus becomes a visionary reflection on racial tensions and the post-nuclear trauma of postwar America. Cinematography and editing are by the legendary experimental filmmaker Ed Emshwiller, who is also responsible for the 20-minute dream sequence at the end.
“When in doubt, yes.”
With this phrase, Alabaster DePlume effortlessly won over a Ghent audience during his memorable appearance at the Theresia concerts a few years ago. The London-based saxophonist, singer, composer, and poet operates at the intersection of spiritual jazz, folk, and spoken word. His music is carried by warm, repetitive motifs and an open, intuitive playing style that can be both comforting and confrontational.
For Time of the Heathen, DePlume composes a new live soundtrack in dialogue with the images—and with the silence that is so characteristic of the film.
