Endless Obsession 2000
Glen Fogel's *Endless Obsession* (2000) is a mesmerizing 6-minute experimental short that distorts Pasolini's infamous *Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom* through a fragmented visual maze.
Director: Glen Fogel
Frequently Asked Questions
What is Endless Obsession (2000) about?
*Endless Obsession* (2000) is a surreal, 6-minute experimental film that repurposes footage from Pier Paolo Pasolini's *Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom*. Through layered degradation of celluloid and VHS, it transforms the original's brutality into a hypnotic, almost meditative experience.
Who directed Endless Obsession?
The film was directed by Glen Fogel, an artist known for his experimental approach to found footage and media distortion.
Who stars in Endless Obsession?
The cast includes several unidentified young men whose performances are captured and reinterpreted through Fogel's visual manipulation.
Is Endless Obsession (2000) worth watching?
As an unrated experimental short, *Endless Obsession* isn't for mainstream audiences, but its bold visual style and thematic depth make it a fascinating study for cinephiles. Its brevity and ambiguity demand patience, but the payoff is a uniquely unsettling experience.
How long is Endless Obsession?
The runtime of *Endless Obsession* is 6 minutes.
About Endless Obsession (2000) — A 6-Minute Experimental Haunting You Won't Forget
Glen Fogel's *Endless Obsession* (2000) is a mesmerizing 6-minute experimental short that distorts Pasolini's infamous *Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom* through a fragmented visual maze. Shot off a television monitor, the film captures young men in an austere chamber, their movements echoing through layers of decayed celluloid and VHS degradation. The hypnotic strobing of black bands across the screen erodes the original's brutality, replacing it with a dreamlike, almost ritualistic rhythm. This isn't just a reinterpretation—it's a cinematic exorcism, where time and technology conspire to strip away context and leave only haunting, ambiguous imagery.
Obsession and transgression collide in Fogel's work, which feels like peering through a cracked lens at a lost film. The absence of dialogue and reliance on visual texture turn *Endless Obsession* into a meditation on decay, power, and the ways media can distort memory. Its brevity belies its impact; the looping sequences and degraded frame rates invite repeat viewings, each revealing new layers of unease. For fans of avant-garde cinema, this is a cult artifact worth dissecting.