A young couple kissing joyfully at the breakfast table, playful, excited, re-embracing, postponing the goodbye for nearly two minutes, before she leaves and he pensively lights a cigarette as the title is superimposed on a blindingly white screen surrounded by a dark circle, suggesting the spot of a projection lamp: The astonishing first shot of Schreiner's debut Grelles Licht is an emblematic moment. Immediately, there's an abundance of this special feeling of natural spontaneity, yet also the insistence that things take time. "You can't chase after things," Schreiner declares categorically, "you have to let them become. You have to be long enough in a place for something lasting to emerge, even with the most banal things. It takes time. And it will be beautiful, if you take the time." Part of the disarming beauty of this first shot is that it both evokes vital ecstasy and hope, some unconscious, irretrievable happiness-in this case, of young love-but it applies to Schreiner's notion...