FLIM FLAM

FLIM FLAM starts with a direction: “Focus on the center for one minute!” before a pattern of concentric circles appears, based on a magnified cinema screen, rotating clockwise against a grainy, grey-white field. They overtake and obscure one another, momentarily coalescing to create peripheral ripples and eddies, spirals within spirals, before stopping altogether. The dots freeze in place but the viewer’s vision keeps moving, lurching unsteadily from side-to-side.

The term “flim-flam” is an old-fashioned one, denoting an act of deception, generally performed by a con man or magician. For Fruhauf, film also has this aptitude. It convinces the spectator to suspend disbelief and wholly surrender to its illusion, even when it is evident that this reality has been constructed. A grid of exclamation marks strobes incessantly, zooming in-and-out, panning back-and-forth, and appearing to form larger diagrams, sections of words, and indecipherable signs. At some point, I realised that this punctuation has been upended, turned upside-down while I was distracted by the barrage of information, the rapid-fire activity, and the soundtrack’s audible patter of rainfall running in the background. Similarly, a metronomic click track maintains a relentless mechanical tempo, as stuttering archival footage of running zebras is superimposed, slowed down, sped up, and dissolves into an amorphous mass: the zebra camouflages itself by becoming indistinguishable from the herd.

However, there is more here than cinematic sleight-of-hand. Fruhauf returns to footage of a miniature toy zebra, held between a child’s palms. The clip is edited, spliced, reversed, and manipulated to the verge of illegibility. Likewise, the toy is played with, alternately contained and revealed by the opening and closing of hands. The alleged “truth” promised by film always depends upon the particular angle or position, its framing, context, and motivation. The medium is inherently unreliable, slippery, and subject to change. It’s even right there in the title: a quick switch of letters and “flim” suddenly turns to “film”.  (Chris Clarke)