Jesper Just’s surrealist film, Interfears, is an eerie dreamscape documenting the neurological manifestation of emotion. The film, alongside an accompanying series of MRI prints, is currently on view at Perrotin in New York until December 21. 

On the second floor of 130 Orchard Street, positioned in a dark enclave to the left of the hallway, is Jesper Just’s neuroscientific pursuit into the emotional mind. Starring Academy Award nominee Matt Dillon, the film on display documents his character in a state of relative turmoil. He recites a monologue from the discomfort of an fMRI, which highlights the entrapment of the mind in its own neural net. As Dillon endeavors to portray an invented character, Interfears logs his authentic response, dismantling the separation generally accredited to the actor and his assigned role.

Breaking from conventional narrative structure, the film leverages MRI technology to aesthetically analyze emotional processing. The utilization of the clinical, private space strategically enunciates the natural paranoia our own minds force upon us in moments of solitude. Broadcasted on the ceiling of the otherwise sterile environment is a blue sky and palm trees. This illumination, amidst the otherwise corporate ceiling, starkly contrasts the internal neural processing of the character lying beneath it. Our own ironic sense of confinement, in contrast to the abyss which remains consistently above us, becomes jarringly apparent.

Facing the film, alongside the viewers, are three MRI prints which display brain activity via coloration of varying human emotions–terror, joy, and sadness. To witness movement on the MRI when someone is organizing their memories and thoughts is separative in a way that is abstractly terrifying. It doesn’t feel like we should be able to see the sensations which we might already doubt the legitimacy of. Further, the assignment of a region on the brain to one emotion or another actually does the opposite to demystifying the concept of our own emotional sourcing. Just’s propensity to provoke further inquiry is writ large. 

The cinematic musical composition is dreamlike for the entirety of the film, its resonance reminiscent of the distance we generally feel between image and volition when in the thick of a bad dream. Gustave Mahler’s Fifth Symphony Adagietto both activates and follows Dillon’s affective voyage throughout the piece, exploiting the role of sound in emotional exploration.

At one point in the film, Dillon recounts what appears to be a distant and potentially aversive memory.

“I’m outside the concert hall on the stairs.

My face, numb and freezing.

I hear laughter.

Golden light.

Red velvet seats.”

The image is vivid, and the description relatable. The dimly lit hue of Dillon’s memory is grounded by the environment it’s recounted in.

Interfears is on view through December 21 @ Perrotin, 130 Orchard Street New York, NY 10002