Alex Gvojic

After four seasons (and counting) on Saturday Night Live, Sarah Sherman's unholy alter ego, Sarah Squirm, slithers onto your screen and rips off the straitjacket, unleashing a festering and hilarious hour of bodily fluids, open-wound confessionals, and jokes that will leave scars on your soul.

A delirious movie installed inside a ghostly barn made with prefabricated materials. The oscillatory movement of the rocking chairs on which visitors sit partly helps to alleviate the syncopated rhythm of the montage and the frenzy of images that follow. A series of brassy characters in wigs and thick make-up map the various locations of the film: a lazy river, a hobby barn, and forest watchtower.

This film takes the rescue mission of 13 kids that were stuck in a flooded cave in Northern Thailand as a central focus to examine how the force of propaganda, spirituality, Royal History storytelling, Cold War politics in Southeast Asia and localized beliefs come together to create a new myth of representation for everyone to believe and take part in.

This pulsating celebration of togetherness is a much-needed emotional antidote to these years of pandemic isolation. If Korakrit Arnunanondchai’s Songs for dying (IFFR 2022) is about the departure of the soul, his latest collaboration with Alex Gvojic is about spirits finding bodies and re-entering the world. Thunderous drumming, screeching feedback, and a mystical narration by musician Zsela bring warmth to distant human bodies from Thailand to New York, in rituals that rejoice in collective existence.

Video installation. Commissioned by Fundação Bienal de São Paulo for the 36th Bienal.