It is very difficult to summarise in a few lines what this short story, to which I have devoted so much time and energy during the past year, means to me.
I think that SAFARI is above all a dramatic confession. It is not a story about goodies and baddies. Here, everyone is a victim with something to say. We understand them all.
We even comprehend them. I was about twenty years old when the Columbine killings took place. It had a very big impact on me. I hadn't been out of high school for long and, suddenly, the news shows were describing this terrifying thing that had happened in an environment that was so familiar to me. Since then, I've always taken an interest in these events. To reflect rigorously and profoundly on these issues in a short film is hard to do, because you're confined to just ten or fifteen minutes at the most.
When I wrote the script I felt that it was important to work narratively with the characters' viewpoints, in order to avoid simplistic approaches. I set out to show the viewer how intense, claustrophobic, violent, surreal and dehumanised an incident like this can be. I found it interesting to move between realism and nightmares, so I concentrated on develo- ping an expressionist language and used techniques such as ellipses and off-camera in order to directly connect with the mystery.
One consequence of this is that, in some way, SAFARI appeals to the desire that we all have of wanting to know more. It encourages us to discover the enigmas that lie behind all this violence that we cannot understand and pushes us to reflect upon the meaningless- ness of such killings.