Sarunas Bartas's narrative style is so evocative, so meditative, so minimal, you could think the spirit of Dreyer was hovering over him. Corridor is a collage of protagonists, inhabitants of a gloomy apartment building in Vilnius. In gritty black and white, Bartas sketches a decaying world of silent, dreadful waiting, the dread interrupted only by some occasional chance event: a young girl looks at her body in a mirror, a boy sets fire to sheets hanging in the courtyard. Fragments of memories and shards of experience dissolve into a tone poem of longing for lost relationships and beliefs. “It's a film,” said Bartas, “about the extremes of exhaustion caused by loneliness, aggression, and love. A stocktaking of the post-Soviet reality. In an unending chaos, people find some small light, which they quickly lose, so they have to search again.”