Glow

The woman we see portrayed in an endless, very special kind of “one-level” work-out on a crosstrainer in Stefan Panhans’ Glow performs strange, adventurous manoeuvres which are reminiscent of video games, as if the woman were to keep evading invisible approaching flying objects. She seams strangely overdressed and over-equipped with her freshly washed and perfectly styled hair, her stylish fitness outfit, totally perfect make up, heart rate monitor and – last but not least – backpack with drinking system. In addition, she is engaged in an alienated, whispered, mysterious inner monologue that constantly swells and subsides, and from which we can only make out a few word fragments. There is a mark on her shoulder that looks like a large bruise. The unfocussed background reminds one both of a nursery and warehouse and is “framed” by flags of different nations.

The soundtrack reinforces the internalized repertoire of dramatic forms. It mixes Ennio Morricone and other quotations of Westerns with an almost esoteric, spherical synthesizer, heightens the suspense yet without reaching the climax we are familiar with from the usual cinematic narrative structures. The soundtrack counteracts the overall mood in an ambivalent way, adding to the uncanny feeling that arises if we view the work a little longer.