
By Raphael Stahlberg
Martin Gerigk, in Torii, delivers a work that surpasses the limits of an audiovisual composition, evolving into a meditative cinematic ritual. The film goes beyond the boundaries of experimental short films to become a spiritual reflection oscillating between the existential and the metaphysical.
The use of torii gates as a starting point is both inspired and deeply resonant. These Shinto structures, symbolizing the transition from the profane to the sacred, become metaphors in Torii for an emotional and philosophical arc that explores five levels of consciousness. It is rare for a short film to convert such culturally specific imagery into a universal concept, where the viewer not only observes but also crosses the threshold alongside the film.
The editing is the film’s beating heart. Gerigk demonstrates a mastery of crafting a visual flow that is simultaneously visceral and ethereal. There is a hypnotic cadence in how physical imagery—likely captured with almost obsessive precision—merges with abstract landscapes and conceptual voids. This fusion recalls the works of artists like Stan Brakhage in Dog Star Man, where cinema becomes a tapestry of sensory experiences, defying narrative and visual conventions. However, while Brakhage often dives into chaos, Gerigk maintains an almost mathematical clarity, guiding the viewer through a meticulously architected journey.
The minimalist sound design deserves special mention. At a time when many experimental films overwhelm with layers of noise or overly elaborate scores, Gerigk opts for a soundscape that is precise, almost meditative. It's impossible not to draw parallels with Walter Murch’s work in The Conversation by Francis Ford Coppola, where silence is as powerful as sound. Here, the sound design serves as an extension of the visuals, creating a unique synesthetic experience—we feel the sound as much as we hear it.
The film also resonates with the philosophy of Andrei Tarkovsky, particularly in Stalker, where physical space reflects psychological and spiritual dimensions. In Torii, the landscapes we traverse—whether real or abstract—carry the same symbolic weight. They exist not just to be seen but to be experienced, inviting introspection.
If there is a critique to be made, it might be that Torii demands a great deal from casual viewers. Its lack of conventional narrative and contemplative pacing could alienate those seeking a more immediate experience. Yet, for those willing to surrender to the film’s flow, this is not a flaw but a virtue: Gerigk refuses to compromise accessibility, maintaining the integrity of his artistic vision.
Torii stands as proof that experimental cinema can still innovate, not only in technical terms but also as a means of exploring the deepest recesses of human consciousness.



