Fireworks From Inside

A cramped upstairs kitchen; the fireworks are never shown. Coloured light arrives through a net curtain and washes the ceiling and one side of a face in soft irregular pulses, green, then a long gap, then a stuttering white, each pulse followed a second and a half later by its flat concussive thud, which rattles the sash in its frame and makes a spoon ring against a mug. Two people carry on with what they were doing; one leans to the glass, the other never looks up. Hirokazu Kore-eda's domestic-interior patience. 35mm at f/2 from low table height, the operator making one small correction when the leaner moves. Dirty foreground: the curtain netting and a drying rack of mismatched crockery. Materials: nicotine-yellowed paintwork, laminate worn through at the sink edge, condensation on the cold pane. No sky, no reveal. 24fps, no on-screen text.