apparently this is supposed to be mocking how most (narrative) films are just illustrated texts. But the insipidity resultant of a complete lack of visual elements, minus the cool shots of the phone boxes and the varying illegibility of the texts, rendered the mockery a mockery of itself.
Intriguing short; probably the most economical movie and story I've ever seen. Phone boxes stand empty and ring; no one picks up. Meanwhile, a man reads aloud handwritten, and eventually typewritten paragraphs that have been scribbled and scrawled beyond recognition. Just watch and let it work its way in.
This makes me want an old British phone box! A nice shiny one. I would make room in my home for it. I know that they haven't all been destroyed. They are being stored in a warehouse somewhere. When cellphones and smartphones go out of style, or people realize that they cause cancer/brain tumors, they will have to start putting the phone boxes back.
"harold constance lived on the phone. he ate through it, he had a hot line to the supermarket and he organized his sex life on it. the phone in his office was always covered in crumbs and was sweaty from being held under his armpit while he masturbated." and other absurdly amusing telephone-related anecdotes.
Surprisingly sweet film comprised of a series of parallel riffs on the mundane beauty of telephone usage and conversation visualised over an almost masturbatory seeking-out of the Gilbert Scott telephone box around various British landscapes. Typically trivial list-making from Greenaway but it works well enough, although one is sure his ideal subject is the never seen telephone directory, brimming with ideal data.