Do we like to think of our past as happy or sad? Do we need our memories? What function do they have in our present?
One sequence, three soundtracks and each time a new perception of the same film. Or the same perception of a new film? Or a film about the memory of a memory of a moment that might have been magic if it has been at all.
The sound does, of course, affect and alter what we see. Moreover throughout their repetition the images hold more and more scars and bruises and seem to dissolve into the arbitrary. Just like our attempts to remember a moment over and over again and in doing so wiping out the original incident. What remains is the memory of a memory. And yet, the images themselves encapture a core of inner resistance that can not fully be erased.