108 spin REVIEW: The Washing Machine at the End of the World - Score: 3.5 / 5
Film: 108 spin Director: arco Runtime: 05:21
By [Critic Name Redacted]
There is a moment early in arco’s debut experimental short, 108 spin, where the viewer is forced to make a decision. The screen displays a generic placeholder graphic: giant white letters reading "TITLE TEXT HERE." It hovers there, unmoving, for an uncomfortable amount of time.
To the casual viewer, this looks like a rendering error—a sign of amateur incompetence. But in the context of this aggressively utilitarian film, it feels more like a slap in the face. It is a Brechtian "alienation effect" updated for the digital age. The director is telling you within the first twelve seconds: Stop looking for polish. There is no movie magic here. There is only the machine.
Shot entirely on an iPhone 11 in a desolate Des Moines laundromat, 108 spin describes itself as a "structuralist intervention," and for once, the artist statement isn't lying. This is not a narrative. It is a documentation of a loop.
The Visuals: Grime vs. Effect The film is presented in high-contrast black and white, shot at a jarring 60 frames per second. This frame rate is a crucial, if risky, choice. Standard cinema runs at 24fps, which creates a dreamlike distance. 60fps is the speed of reality TV, soap operas, and the human eye. By using it here, arco refuses to let the laundromat look "cinematic." The spinning water looks violent, heavy, and wet.
However, the visual purity is occasionally marred by a heavy "film scratch" overlay. It’s an unnecessary affectation. The raw, noisy grain of the iPhone sensor is "janitor zen" enough on its own; pasting fake celluloid dust on top of a digital file feels like putting a sepia filter on a security camera feed. The film is at its strongest when it stops pretending to be film and embraces its identity as gritty, low-light video data.
The Sound: Industrial Mantra The soundscape is where 108 spin truly succeeds. It opens with a buried, almost subliminal recitation—"Form is emptiness, emptiness is form"—before dissolving into a wall of industrial drone. The rhythm of the washing machine bearing grinding against the drum creates a mechanical techno beat that is genuinely hypnotic. It challenges the audience to find the groove inside the noise. If you can surrender to the abrasive audio, the film shifts from a chore into a trance.
The Turn Without spoiling the experience, the film’s conclusion breaks its own rules in a way that creates a genuine shock to the system. After five minutes of monochrome conditioning, the sudden shift in the final seconds forces a re-evaluation of everything that came before. It suggests that the "drudgery" of the loop was perhaps just a failure of our own perception.
Verdict 108 spin is not an easy watch. It is hostile to the impatient and indifferent to the entertained. But as a piece of "Janitor Zen," it works. It captures the specific, lonely theology of a Midwest laundromat at night—a place where we bring our filth, wait in the fluorescent light, and hope to leave a little cleaner than we arrived.
Score: 3.5 / 5 Highlight: The kinetic violence of the water at the 03:00 mark. Lowlight: The digital title card will cause 50% of viewers to check their internet connection.