A fine ensemble portrait of New Yorkers, those we pass on the street, stand next to on the subway, who serve our coffee, wash our dishes and hardly ever notice. Others have told you the premise, described the characters, hailed the camerawork, sound and light and praised the performances better than I could.
Moving and quietly poetic, I would like to sing the praises of the brilliantly-devised titles and animation that runs throughout, and which express the heart, breath and lifeblood of the "Outsiders" of this film. Rabbits, little girls, clouds and bursts of light are visual icons that seem familiar.
Jorge, aching to be heard, but choked by his morbid shyness, finds safety, hiding like a caged rabbit. When he is understood and treated with tenderness by the child-like Amy, we feel there is hope that he may conquer his demons; the voices that contradict him and hold him prisoner.
Watching a second time, the images of the poster and the animation come alive to remind me of the murals of another "Outsider," artist Henry Darger (1892-1905), who was, himself, one of those people hardly anyone noticed, and who, similarly, moved through life like a shadow.
Like Jorge, Darger's dress was shabby and he, too, was a solitary. Darger was institutionalized and considered feeble-minded.
The linear quality which Darger used in his murals, and his images of children, exotic flowers, butterflies and exploding bombs, seem to have influenced the Title Artist and illuminated "Choking Man."
If you appreciate slice-of-life films, films about real people, their struggles to connect, to be heard, and that reveal magic moments like flying carpets, I add my recommendation of "Choking Man."