Erika’s mother introduces disciplines to tame her body—curfew, tearing of her clothes, slapping. But Erika attempts to gain some autonomy over her own body within the narrow space created for her. The freedom (and control) comes in a form of restrained violence—mutilating her own genitals. Then the body negates what is given to it and takes control again by acting out the internalized violence: the uncontrollable orgasm, urination in a public parking lot, throat irritation, diarrhea, vomit.



Then another body appears, existing outside both the space Erika’s mother has created for her and what she has created for herself. Her eyes follow his eyes, uncontrollably. She tears when he plays Schubert, against her wish. Her jealousy turns into other people’s blood. She longs for his touch but her body retracts. For Erika, freedom comes with the control of the body—violence exerted by her own self. But when she begs for violence from another person, she relinquishes her freedom to another body in exchange of “love.” 



The film depicts a clear dichotomy between what could be controlled (genitals, doors, the piano, the hands, written words, the inner imagery of newstand pornography ) and what could not be controlled (tears, coughs, urine, blood, spoken words, voice of Schubert). And what connects the two polars together is Erika’s physical body.



In the end she stabs her own shoulder with such violent intensity, regaining the freedom in despair, blood, and tears.