I am sitting next to my friend Gil in the middle of a large movie theater. We are the only people there.
A black and white film is playing on the screen. It looks similar to one that might be directed by Akira Kurosawa.
On the screen, peasant villagers work in a field. Men and women in tattered clothes till the soil or carry baskets.
A man approaches from the distance.
“Come here!” he yells, “They’ve found him!”
The man is speaking in Japanese and there are no subtitles, but we understand perfectly what he is saying.
The villagers drop their work and murmur to each other. They follow the man.
Music similar to the soundtrack of “Seven Samurai” plays.
There are men and women, old and young, following the man up the mountain. It is rocky and difficult to climb.
As they climb, the landscape becomes more sparse and rocky. They pass pine and cypress trees.
The man leads them to a flat stony clearing. There is snow on the ground and I can see breath coming from their mouths as they talk. From the clearing, I see the mountain jutting up far into the sky.
Three men are there with picks and shovels.
“Come help!” he says, “We have to get him out!”
The villagers watch as the men clear earth and snow from a mound. The mound contains a large block of ice. One of the men wipes the snow away from the top of it.
The villagers become excited, murmuring to each other, and gather around the unearthed object.
I see a shot from the perspective of the block of ice, looking up. The faces of the villagers are all around the frame. They look astonished.
I see an overhead shot of the block of ice. Encased within the ice is a man. The features are indistinct at first, but the camera moves closer.
I realize that the man enclosed in the ice is me.
Then I woke up.