Just a man in shadow, facing a camera, barely keeping it together. Until he isn’t. Father goes from collected to sobbing. There is no moment of transition. Racking, body-shaking sobs. His big hands cover his face, but I can see the force of his convulsions, hear the cracking of his chair as his body wrenches against it. “Stop the reel!” he screams.
KODIAK MY BABY
