In the dark, few keep the light alive.
In a darkened booth high above the audience, a lone projectionist threads reels of 35mm film through a machine older than many who come to watch. The Man in the Upper Room is a one-day documentary that captures the sacred solitude of one of cinema’s last keepers. Shot in a single 24-hour period, the film is both a portrait and a meditation: on ritual, on the fragility of tradition, and on the quiet hands that keep the magic alive. As theaters shutter and celluloid vanishes, this intimate story asks a simple question: why does it still matter to gather in the dark and let light tell us who we are?
