Produced in one room over the course of a week in the heart of lockdown, Sgàire Wood’s Powder Snowdrop Catatonic is an irreverent pantomime performance of mental deterioration under mandatory quarantine. Summoning a cast of capricious characters, Wood runs a Kübler-Ross style gamut of emotions precipitated by self-isolation, from misanthropic smugness to mind-bending ennui and cabin fever. Seen solely through the narrow lens of a smartphone camera, she dances before the flimsy trompe l’oeil facade of a Victorian parlour, existing in the space between coziness and claustrophobia, flippancy and sincerity. The film’s celebratory intimacy pays tribute to queer, radicalised or feminised practices which, being underrepresented in traditional art spaces, are relegated to the realm of domesticity and how under the circumstances in which the film was produced, have found a new appreciation and importance.