De Schnuuf

In an unreal, abstract environment, safely wrapped-up members of the voluntary fire department train for the moment they are called out. On treadmills and moving ladders in a concrete cellar, men wearing orange suits and oxygen tanks work on their condition in a kind of silent ballet, the silence punctuated only by their rhythmic breathing. In the factory building where a fire is raging it is dark – there are flashes of light, and a fire glows in the distance. The firefighters move slowly, like Martians across unknown terrain. All they can hear is their own breathing, and their fear becomes palpable. Does the suit offer sufficient protection? How heavy are those oxygen tanks? Above the monitors in the control room, all that can be seen are the peering eyes of an officer following the maneuvers on flickering screens. It is only when the big helmets have been removed and the whole team is standing in the shower that their vulnerability becomes visible: the anonymous suits become flesh-and-blood people. This oppressive, silent visual poem is an illustration of the sensory experience of firefighting. With limited vision, little freedom of movement and danger lurking around every corner, the rhythm of the breathing apparatus is all that counts. (International Documentary Film Festival Amsterdam)