Queer time moves differently. Selves are multiplied and then hidden away, secret objects are infused with mimesis, desires are internalized. Vials of synthetic testosterone provide most of the narration in Emory Chao Johnson’s collage. The filmmaker withholds the audience’s view from domestic drama and traumatic squabbles that invade the soundtrack, keeping at bay what Moyra Davey once referred to as “the wet.” Instead, Chao Johnson focuses on methodical practices—injections, cooking, commuting, inspecting one’s own body—collapsing those fraught, wet questions of identity until they undergird their quotidien present