Gaviscon

The whole film is drawn in flat, softly airbrushed colour, and it uses drawing to go where a camera cannot follow. A man in an orange jacket bends over a chainsaw among snow-covered birches, the snow left almost as bare paper so the orange is the only strong note in the frame; an older man in glasses winces at a table in a glass-roofed restaurant among palms; a fair-haired woman sits by a window with a hand pressed to her chest. Then the drawing simply opens the body, and a stomach and oesophagus appear in dark red against blue with the contents pushing back up the tube, until a pale foam layer forms across the top and holds them down with the gaviscon logo laid over the anatomy. Keeping the cutaway in the same paint and the same pastel palette as the people means the diagram is not a change of register, it is just the next shot, which is the neatest thing in the film. The pack shot appears to be the one photographed element, bottles and jars and sachets lit on grey with FERRING LÄKEMEDEL and FERROSAN beneath, and after half a minute of drawing the switch to real glass is what makes the product land as an object you could buy.