*WARNING CONTAINS EXTREMELY DISTRESSING REAL IMAGES OF WAR* A short Photo Roman based on the Wilfred Owen poem Futility with sourced images. Like Owen I am a former soldier and this is to date my first and only film to reflect on my own experiences. Here is the original poem. Futility Move him into the sun Gently its touch awoke him once, At home, whispering of fields unsown. Always it woke him, even in France, Until this morning and this snow. If anything might rouse him now The kind old sun will know. Think how it wakes the seeds, Woke, once, the clays of a cold star. Are limbs, so dear-achieved, are sides, Full-nerved, still warm, too hard to stir? Was it for this the clay grew tall? O what made fatuous sunbeams toil To break earth's sleep at all?
