"Should I go mad?" Boris asks himself as he lays a stool in the centre of his cell, "I haven't tried it in a while". He places his hands on the stool and holds himself up, but he strains and falls. "It's not easy to do handstands anymore," Boris mutters to himself. The only sounds are his heavy, erratic breathing and the creaking of the stool as he tries once more, "No, I can't manage handstands anymore". He puts the stool away. "You can tell I'm not 18 anymore but 35-36 soon".

"O Lord lead me out of the nets that were secretly set for me", is Boris' continual plea. In the cramped space of his cell Boris fears losing his mind. "The Count is changing", he remarks as we hear shrieking laughter in the distance, "he didn't do that before," he says as we watch him through the grill, pacing restlessly as ever, "I can't let that happen to me."

Yet Boris' mind must adjust to the surroundings. "Hey spider your lunch flew away", the spider on the wall has become his closest friend, "it flew away, I didn't catch it!" He whispers to it. In this world of endless repetition he can only look to the outside as an impetus for change. "The Public Prosecutor General was replaced and you immediately detect changes", he says, but day after day his routine, his food, his whole environment remains unchanged. His daughter is the only sign that time is passing "I haven't seen my little daughter and she will be eight soon." Yet even she exists only inside his mind.

Often his thoughts turn inward and focus on his plight. "O Lord! How many times did you warn me?" It is the world of these thoughts that Boris inhabits and through them he seems to find some kind of meaning. This tense documentary captures the inner workings of a deeply troubled soul but one that at least has learned to survive a life in moratorium.

Golden Conch - Best Documentary at the 11th International Mumbai Film Festival

Special Award at the Trieste Film Festival

Special Commendation - Prix Europa

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