A sensorial representation of a limbo realm inhabited by two wondering souls, a replica of the earth from which they departed. Seemingly still bound to their physical bodies, what ensues is a continuous flow of images denoting their corporeal and psychological untangling as they surrender into to the unknown.

A female figure enters the fray to be greeted by a blazing fire in the woods, making her way to an empty country house. Immediately acclimatising to the new surroundings, preoccupying herself with earthly endeavours; eating, bathing, cleaning, and laundry. Until the arrival of a curious second entity, whose presence troggers a process of reflection. They never speak, but continually interact, often physically, at points antagonistically, other times embracingly. Until a bright light signals a change. Absolved from any narrative structure and a complete omission of any background, the souls exist solely in present, and for all their interactions, their experience of this intermediary place is a singular one.

This collaborative, free-flow approach is spurred by the directors’ fascination with the mystical. The result is a stripped-down aesthetic utilising the French countryside, where bucolic scenes are interspersed by ambient ethereal imagery. The pace continually shifts gears. At first, the scenes if at first feel disparate and fleeting, yet never jarring. Thematic cohesion emerges as the viewer gradually settles in. The swift unwieldiness mirrors a soul/person’s stream of consciousness.

Some directorial choices appear less random. Text in the opening scenes ascertains: “in your first days after death you must enter a house where no words remain”. A superfluous device: the subsequent visual and auditory tropes eloquently represent to near-death experience. A bright light, dark tunnels, otherworldly echoes are all in there. The cast is mostly female, Black and East Asia. A reconfiguration of the Caucasian mother earth. A nod to ethnicities and cultures with more refreshing views on death and the afterlife.

At a taut 68 minutes, this Swiss film is less concerned with depicting a defined afterlife than with our senses. It successfully conveys a sense of wonderment, and perhaps a gentle unease. The imagery is mesmerising to watch, yet it relegates human experience into insignificance. Ultimately, the movie taps into existential quagmires. Orson Welles sums it up neatly: “we’re born alone, live alone, we die alone”.

First Days just premiered in the 55th edition of the Rotterdam International Film Festival.