“A climactic fragment from the existence of an adolescent Narcissus” and an “examination of youthful narcissism” are words that director Curtis Harrington used to describe this early sixteen-minute long movie.

A man catches a glimpse of a woman, becomes obsessed by her and then alternatively horrified by her when he sees her in a much more frightening way the closer he gets to her.

But under the surface, this film looks like Lynch before Lynch. Influenced by Maya Deren and somehow brave enough to confront being queer on film in 1946, Harrington explores the links between sex and fear and death and worry and angst and alienation.

As you can tell by this week of his movies I’m fascinated by Harrington, a man whose career goes from occult leanings to an appearance in Kenneth Anger’s Invocation of the Pleasure Dome, rescuing James Whales’ The Old Dark House, making psychobiddy films and finally finding something of a home making TV movies and episodes of mass population pleasing culture like Charlie’s Angels and Dynasty. He’s definitely all over the place and isn’t that how we like our creative people?