The last movie I saw in theaters before the pandemic was Vitalina Varela by Pedro Costa, on February 26, 2020. I took two pages of notes while watching. When I checked to see what I’d made of the movie, I saw that I’d written sentence after sentence on top of one another, producing a mostly illegible tangle of language. Resolved so far as possible from near-abstraction into words, my recorded thoughts on Vitalina Varela are as follows:

   
  Procession

        I film,
Early soldiers molten, to where ghosts ghosts
    of town
Fro ntal shots, like portraits.
Characters waiting, washing,
        standing
Like               a Greek chorus
       their heads turned down
    —the welcoming crew   

Often
  Logorrhea
Something — Ventura’s glinting babbling. the
darkness
Not senseless pupils, but a leather jacket like Beckett’s 
Not I or Play. a discombobulated
    reconstruction of events
One of de Cooch’s interiors, but 
            Dilapidated, darkened. Angular
diagonal rooms, alleyways —
Cabinet not of a stories Caligari
                                                  photos?

Because they don’t communicate 
duration
   the 
Ebneverstion-tongue, tongue, onsy utter casuals no
To wanted, pornlegal, 140 I stoll yestry cudgel
“I’ll die”