It’s the shapes, the rigid color palette, the horizontal lines battling with the verticals, the close-ups wrestling with the long views (with birds sizzling precisely along a flowered horizon at one point), and it’s the disconnect between the sound and image in the first half of Peet Gelderblom’s too-short Out of Sync--these are the facets that rivet us most. Then there’s the wide cloudy eyes of an upset wife, staring boldly at us upon the piece’s outset, as the husband absent-mindedly goes about his normal day--they upset us too (upon which we have Franz Schubert overcome by jerky dance muzik, following a heard argument that‘s woefully never detailed). .jpg)
The haziness of a weekday morning is palpable, and the gentle tans of the woman’s cosmos clash with the gunky greys of the man’s. A shave and no goodbye and the story marches on. A startling peer at an arriving stud, beautifully captured in hilarious slo-mo: he’s popping buttons and spitting out his gum in sexual confidence. And then…then…then we get it. And, as the camera whizzes brilliantly…then, eventually, the movie is deflated a bit by some surprising sentiment that isn't sufficiently worked up to. A promising exercise for a promising new director, yes. But I wish Out of Sync were longer, more complicated and nuanced, and unconcerned with audience satisfaction. However, I sympathize with the situation that Gelderblom and his characters are in. And, for its brief running time, the film’s quite lovely, with more-than-notable art direction and cinematography. I want to see more, though. And it’s a fine feeling.

You can see Out of Sync HERE on Peet Gelderblom's official site!
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