Reverie Sound Review | You Don't Exist

Making of Reverie Sound Review...

Making of Documentary by Exploding Motorcar (Parts 1 & 2)

Original Treatment (2008)


We will focus on a day in the life of a disorganized fashion designer (played by Reverie singer Lisa Lobsinger), attempting to get her life together.  While cleaning her derelict apartment, Lisa inadvertently creates a monster from the mountains of trash in her closet.  



We open with a shot of Lisa sitting at a cluttered dining room table, staring blankly at a pile of paper dress patterns she's laid out. Lisa thumbs through the patterns and becomes distracted by her open purse.  She reaches into the purse's clutter and reveals an unfinished piece of knitting; the knitting's yarn has ensnared her license, pictures of loved ones and other knick knacks.  Lisa pulls the mess of yarn from the purse and hangs it on the chandelier suspended above the table.  It forms an unintentional mobile. Lisa surveys the mess piled on the table.  The clutter seems to have a life of it's own.  The dishes and mail jitter as if they are giggling, mocking her.  Scrunching her fists, Lisa mouths "You don't exist".  In a flash, the piles of dirty dishes, the yarn mobile and the unopened mail fly into the air past her head and into the yawning mouth of the broom closet behind her.  The closet door slams shut.  One mischievous dish tries to escape.  The door springs to life again and pulls the dish into the closet with authority.

Lisa makes her way over to the kitchen counter.  Much like the table, the counter is buried in junk.  Amidst the rubbish is an old television with a VHS player.  Lisa presses 'play'.  A grainy home movie of a little blond girl swinging on a trapeze and falling into a pile of safety foam appears.  Lisa closes her eyes again.  "You don't exist" she mumbles.  As before, the tv, the tapes and fabric all fly off into the closet.  This time however, the closet door seems visibly stressed, struggling to contain junk and bulging outward.  Pieces of coloured fabric, dishes and torn paper fight to escape through the widening gap between the door and it's frame.  

Near the room's main window Lisa finds a fish bowl that has been neglected horribly.  An exotic, coloured fish lies dead on the bottom of the bowl.  Webs of green algae dangle through the water.  Lisa says "You don't exist".  The bowl flies off screen. Behind her, the closet is now fit to burst.  The door bulges out painfully. In quick succession Lisa wishes away her remaining distractions: An out of date calendar, a dusty collections of butterflies and several hanging plants are whisked off in an instant.