Rashko Rakov's short experimental film 'Interview in the Womb of the Whale' tells the story of a feldsher in a psychiatric clinic. He has many patients to take care of, and whilst going through wards, he gets to see how their conditions improved. Most of the time, he is not surprised by what he sees, but at one point, their lives start engaging with his life subtly. The mind is the perfect dance floor for the thoughts to perform, and we can see through this short experimental film that a lot of dancing is happening in our minds.

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Rakov's 'Interview in the Womb of the Whale' astounds through colour, dialogue and acting. The prevalent white colour sends a message of peace, but at the same time, when it is too much, it may lead you to dark places, and we can see that right when the patients are supposed to take their meds. Whenever the tiny window opens, and the doctor brings the pills, the whole world that is building up in the mind of the patients disappears the same way in which the world in our dreams disappears when we get up from a long nap. There is a certain amount of beauty in this metaphor because we can see the tiny window as the portal that sucks us into the dreamland; when the window opens, it's like when the plane's cabin gets depressurized, and the oxygen masks drop. We know it's not the perfect comparison, but as it is presented here, everything goes as it should until something from the outside world intervenes in the story.

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The dialogue is incredibly haunting, and the level of avant-garde madness is breathtaking. Whoever heard of the avant-garde artistic movement will understand the whole dialogue differently, more as a slam poetry bit and less as a script from a movie.