The silence of the montage of Carriage Trade abets every new shot in threatening to alter the context of some of those that preceded it. The resulting effect of concentrating pressure on the individual shot at the expense of larger units of organization is to immerse the viewer in a maze of seductive images, continually suggesting different lines of association or narrative, which are so frequently superseded that the play of distraction and renewed attention seems to be crucial to the film’s aesthetic. Perhaps this may be what Sonbert meant when he told David Ehrenstein that his films’ “poetry” resists “dehumanizing entertainment”:
[I]t’s a split between shaking people up and making them feel central. It’s definitely a criminal act—going against the grain. . . . It’s taking people to different places. It’s not patting them on the back. If you have a work and no one boos it, there’s something wrong. I just follow my own needs and wants and desires. Do I sound megalomaniacal? . . . Well, I am. I think all artists have to be solipsistic.