Exiled

It's not that luxurious solitude you can choose against a background of sea or desert, a mythological desolation like in Antonioni's film, with that subtle taste of beautiful hopelessness in the subliminal search for identity that ends with a shotgun. That's not the case in Cainland. It's the loneliness of exile into the reduced self, into the emptiness of cutting all ties, and your so-called identity is whatever progressive humanity wants to see, but it's always not you. . You have to deal with another kind of existentialism, just breathe, and while you're alive, carry on if you can, or if you can't, no one will notice, including yourself. No press screening, this movie was financed with dirty money stained with oily fingerprints. The working title was Cursed for the Place of Birth, but in the final version it was changed to Exiled - a less dramatic, more conventional title. The rare audience watched apathetically in silence, distracted from time to time by the flickering of their cell phones they couldn't resist reacting. One drunk laughed at the end.