One day, from a rooftop at dusk to the floor of a reception at the end of the night, and not once does anybody look at the camera.
It rains on them in a soi and they laugh about it. They run down a skywalk because it happens to be empty. They buy fruit and disagree about which one. She has a birthday and a hand comes in from outside the frame to set the cake down. Later a friend is buttoning her into a dress. Later still they are sitting on the floor, because the party has thinned out and their feet hurt.
None of this was arranged, which is of course completely untrue. Holding that one fiction from the first frame to the ninth is the only work that matters here.
