The film plays like a box of photographs overturned, mixed around, and then tossed into the air. Meanwhile the filmmaker’s voiceover, often recorded decades after the footage it accompanies, somewhat undercuts the radical-ness of the randomness by underscoring his purpose.
Few films have so poignantly embodied André Bazin’s notion of cinema as “time mummified,” as a thing that lives and breathes and dies. . . . As I Was Moving Ahead… operates as one extended flashback, with memories unanchored from their context, and leaps in time rendered almost irrelevant and indistinguishable by the uniformly granular, discolored look of the 16mm stock.