It begins as a dream. A moth, incorporating its own light source, hovers over a form. A director—a hybrid “I” in a hall of mirrors—considering a body of work. A shroud—a curtain that descends and enfolds—is embedded with cameras. Once his beloved is wrapped and buried, the device’s creator can observe the stages of decomposition. But it’s only a temporary fix—how long does it take for a body to decay?—or no fix at all.