It tells the story of a young boy who is excluded from the rest of his classmates, the underlying reason for which is not made clear to start. He spends his time having to play in the corner of the classroom on his own, excluded from the group. The boy eventually befriends a girl in the class and invites her home to meet his talking pet raven. It is at this point that the boy's exclusion from the school group starts to become clear, as he reveals to his new friend the disruptive and abusive upbringing he has had to suffer at the hands of his parents.

After 10 years since his last film "Arnulf Rainer", Peter Kubelka returns with "Pause!"

Arnulf Rainer himself is an artist of unique originality and intensity. His face art, which constitutes the source of imagery of "Pause!" is a chapter of modern art in itself. [...] During the first images I had an existential fear. Kubelka had to consume and to transcend not only Arnulf Rainer but also to transcend the entire genre of contemporary art known as face art. A few images more and my heart regained itself and jumped into exitement: both Rainer and Art disintegrated and became molecules, frames of movement and expression, material at the disposal of the Muse of Cinema. (Jonas Mekas)

They call Negative Hands the hands founds on the walls of the Magdalen caverns of the Europe of the South of the Atlantic. These hands were simply placed on the rock after having been plunged into colour. Generally they were black. Or blue. No explanation has been found to this practice.
In front of the Ocean, under the cliff, on the granite wall: these open hands, blue and black. The blue of water, the black of the night. Man came alone into the cave, facing the Ocean. All the hands have are of identical size. He was alone. The man, alone in the cave, looked into the noise, the noise of the sea: the immensity of things. And he screamed. You, who is named, who has the gift of identity -- I love you.
Those hands, blue like water, black like the sky, flat, placed, spread out onto the grey granite, so that someone will have seen them.
I am someone who calls out, I am the one who called, who screamed. 3000 years ago. I love you. I scream that I want to love you. I love you. I love whoever will hear that I scream.
On an empty Earth, these hands will remain. On the walls of granite, facing the roar of the Ocean -- unbearable. No one will hear any longer, or see. 3000 years: these hands -- black.
The refraction of light upon the sea makes the wall of rock tremble.
I am someone, I am the one who called, screamed in this white light. Desire. The word has not yet been invented.
He looked upon the immensity of things, amongst the roar of the waves: the immensity of his strength. And he screamed.
Above him the forests of Europe, endlessly. He stands in the central point of the rock: corridors, passages of rock in every direction. You, who has a name, who is gifted of identity -- I love you with a love that is undefined.
The cliff had to be climbed down, fear had to be conquered. The wind blows from the continent, it pushes the Ocean away from it. The waves fight the wind: they advance, slow down with its force, and patiently reach the wall. Everything crushes down.
I love you further than you. I will love whoever will hear that I scream that I love you.
3000 years. I call out. I call for her who will respond. I want to love you. I love you. For 3000 years I scream in front of the sea. A white spectre.
I am the one who screamed. Who loved you. You.

[translated by mabsurda]