In an ultra-modern luxury flat, things are not going well for the Mr. and Mrs.-communications have broken down, to put it mildly. To relieve the tension of their mutual contempt, this young couple has the television on 24 hours a day. Her husband's obsession with modern gadgetry has left the woman with an entirely automated home and nothing to do with her days; even the supermarket arrives on wheels. Still, she never leaves. In her isolation she gradually retreats to the bedroom, where it is just herself and the big color TV set behind locked doors. He, thinking he can speak to her in her own language, fills the house with video equipment to lure her from her lair. But typically, all the new toys are really for himself: he sets up an elaborate system to spy on his wife, recording her behavior on video tape. It will prove to be his last obsession. Intensely claustrophobic and thankfully short, this Dutch tech-fi, shot all in tones of white and grey, is a paranoid vision of "inter-human communication in an age of over-information." But, outré melodrama that it is, it is also a depressing little "film blanc", down-home about domestic space, and bitter about the way that television feeds and facilitates the little woman's agorophobia. (JB)