Frame 1: 4 men in tuxedos posing identically in the corner of a cheap hotel room, pretending to flex their biceps, smiling and looking into the camera. They are lit by the harsh light of the grey sky intruding through the window on the wall to their left giving their faces a washed out look without diminishing the joy emanating from their faces. The charisma on the face of the man second from the left draws the eye, his pose radiating a quiet, easygoing confidence. Reflected in the full length mirror on the wall to their right is the fifth man, a brown-haired man in a crumpled tuxedo, holding up a camera to his face.
Frame 2: The back of a car seat headrest. Peaking out from behind the headrest is the face of the charismatic man, smiling a smile of effortless happiness as he gives a big thumbs up. His eyes, looking into the camera, have a winking quality to them, as if in on a secret that would be spoiled if revealed to anyone.
Frame 3: The church steeple threateningly looms over, extending into the sky seemingly forever, its dark architecture starkly silhouetted against the severely bright grey sky behind it. Its menacing quality goes unnoticed by the dressed up men and women in its shadow. Some of them are walking up the steps, making their way inside while others hang around, standing about in small circles, catching up the way that family and old friends do.
Frame 4: The church pews are full. The charismatic groom stands at the apse, flanked by his groomsmen and the bridesmaids. But nobody is looking at him. All eyes are locked on the bride at the centre of the aisle, who is mid-step, making her way towards the groom. From this angle, we see only only her back and the harsh grey streams of light stabbing in from the church windows are reflected off her white dress in warm waves, embracing the surfaces they land on.
Frame 5: The bride's face as she stares into the face of the her soon-to-be husband. She looks unbearably happy.
Frame 6: People stand about, glasses of champagne and canapés in hand under the cover of a great white gazebo. At the back peeking through the sea of black coats and vibrantly coloured dresses are glimpses of a sumptuous buffet table. The scene hums with energy, some coat buttons have already been undone and elaborate hair-styles have been let down as the formal part of the day is over and the fun is about to begin.
Frame 7: People frozen in absurd and improbable poses on the hardwood dancefloor while a brass band on the stage behind them are blissfully focused on their instruments, transmitting their energy to the crowd. The shimmery blur of bad focus looms over it all, giving everyone the quality of unfinished wax figurines. The only person spared this lack of clarity is the bride in the centre, one hand holding a half-finished glass of champagne, the other being held high, fingers outspread as she laughs at some joke told to her by one of the faceless beings sharing the frame with her.
Frame 8: They stand beneath the soft glow of the fairy lights decorating the outside of the party gazebo. She is standing next to the brown-haired man in the crumpled tuxedo, her arms around his waist and her head on his shoulders. They both smile into the camera. Her smile is gentle and calm, her expression one of joy which makes time elastic, compressing hours into minutes and seconds into lifetimes. His smile is stiff and forced, the expression of a man painfully experiencing every moment of his existence, taking in every excruciatingly mundane detail, feeling every second, minute and hour with oppressing regularity.
Frame 9: Seconds later, as if the person taking the photo accidentally double-clicked the shutter release. She has just let go of him, her face turned away from him and looking back towards the party which she intends to return to. His eyes are locked onto her. The image is at a Dutch angle as the photographer is returning the camera to the brown-haired man in the crumpled tuxedo.
Frame 10: A close-up of a finger in the darkness, the flash of the camera lighting it up. The finger has a paper cut along one of the joints.
Frame 11: Extreme close-ups of the 4 men in tuxedos, all drunkenly giving a primal scream into the camera. The space behind them is completely black as the flash of the camera pales their skin and gives them the appearance of ghosts.
Frame 12: The brown-haired man in the crumpled tuexdo is on his knees, clutching the edges of the toilet bowl as he appears mid-convulsion with his head inside the toilet. Standing over him is one of the groomsmen, a big grin on his face as his does the devil horns symbol with his hands.