Ten More Seconds

A 14-second continuous take inside a small hatchback parked on a Tokyo side street in the afternoon, engine running, framed 4:3 across both front seats. A woman in her thirties at the wheel in driving gloves and a black jacket, her younger brother in the passenger seat with a canvas holdall on his lap. Through the windscreen, the glass doors of a bank forty meters ahead. Real-time performance, one take, no cuts. 0-4 seconds: Both watching the doors. Her hands stay on the wheel. His right leg is going. An alarm starts inside the building, faint through the glass. 4-8 seconds: She checks the mirror once, then the doors again, and says, "出てこない。" Her brother does not answer and does not open his mouth while she is speaking. He reaches for the door handle. 8-12 seconds: She takes his wrist off the handle without looking at him and says, "あと十秒。" Only her mouth moves. He sits back. 12-14 seconds: Neither speaks. The alarm gets louder. The shot ends on both of them watching the doors with the car still stationary. The gloves, the jacket, the holdall, the car interior and the daylight hold from first frame to last, and each mouth moves only for its own line. Audio: clean lip-synced Japanese, an idling four-cylinder, a building alarm muffled through glass, a turn indicator ticking, his leg against the door card. No subtitles and no score.