SEAFORTH.

A man on a train catches a smell he recognises. What follows is not a flashback so much as a slip: a bedroom in morning light, a pub, a corridor, a door. Twenty four shots, ordered on feel rather than on plot, and then the return to the carriage.

The carriage, the seat, the position and the light are the real thing rather than invented, and everything downstream was built to match them. The sound does most of the work at the hinge: the platform pre-laps the cut, so you are already somewhere else before the picture agrees.

Made for ourselves with nobody to please. It is the one we point at when someone asks what the studio does with the whole brief.