Artist David Austen describes his film End of Love, at Modern Art Oxford until February 20, as a musical without music, performed at the end of the world. Others describe it as a poetic expression of love’s elusiveness, the non-linearity of time, and fleeting facets of personal memory.

Using a team of actors whom Austen placed on the empty stage of a London theatre, where they each took on the persona of one of 12 different characters, this film encapsulates a range of human emotions, including unrequited love.

There is a raw pain within this work, as the characters, who are marginal figures, all appear to be lost, hurt or broken — some are fragile, childlike almost, but all tenderly depicted.

Take the young man, dressed in a blue velvet jacket (above), which being a size too small for him, suggests there is a man trapped in both his clothing and his mind. Removing his top hat and carefully placing it on the floor besides him he begins to speak. A large sign behind him spells out in large black letters “THE DEATH OF LOVE”. The poem he recites, Rock of Gibraltar, appeals to his beloved, and lists the many things he will do for her if only she (or is it he?) will say his name twice. It is a painful plea, superbly acted, such that it exposes the raw pain of a man prepared to tear the stars from the sky, or drop like lead to the ocean bottom if only his love will have him.

Other cameos of emotion come from an imprisoned woman, a lonely astronaut, a dark angel and a homeless man. As this film, which is played on a continuous loop, is more than 60 minutes long, visitors may wish to see small sections at a time, then after reflecting on what they have viewed, take in another snippet.