Echoes of a Wet Finger: Digital Surveillance through the Lens of Animation

May 6, 2026

Echoes of a Wet Finger: Digital Surveillance through the Lens of Animation

Story written by CLAS Spring 2026 intern Gabrielle DeMarco. Gabby is an International Studies-International Affairs and Diplomacy major, with a minor in Spanish.


Throughout the film echoes of a wet finger, we observe the main character, Tixa, as something of a human-reptile hybrid existing in her own solitary but technological universe. She exists somewhere between what we perceive as normal and what we might label as a monster. We encounter this unknown creature with human ears and eyes speckled around her body. My immediate reaction was confusion and maybe even disgust. Yet, it was precisely those grotesque features that made me unable to look away. I found myself continuously trying to understand who, or what, she was. In the real world, we tend to shy away from things that evoke discomfort, but the mystery embodied in Tixa pulls the viewer in, forcing us to question not only what's wrong with her but why we experience this feeling of distaste in the first place.

This thought becomes more meaningful when considering filmmaker Vitória Cribb's discussion, in a Q&A, of the human experience of surveillance, especially through technology and the media. The ever-increasing ways that we are watched and perceived by others shape the way that we see ourselves, often in intense and sometimes limiting ways. We see Tixa in this crazy moment where she is trying to present herself as something coherent while her underlying truth keeps trying to break through. Metaphorically, Cribb discusses how this relates to the way people curate their identity online.

Dr. Liliana Gil, Assistant Professor in the Department of Comparative Studies, specializing in Science and Technology Studies with a focus on Brazil, explained, “This fluidity between real and virtual worlds, and between human and non-human bodies, feels very suggestive of our online experiences. It also seems charged with both pain and desire. To me, this ambivalence is part of what makes the film so compelling, as it mirrors our ambivalent relationship with digital technologies.” We may present a controlled, desirable version of ourselves to the outside world, but this raises an important question: Does this performance ever really change the box we are put into by society, or does it simply reinforce the box we are already placed in? If we suppress our monster, does it go away or fight even harder to break through?

Cribb graduated from the Superior School of Industrial Design at the State University of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. I felt her use of the lagartixa, meaning lizard or gecko in Portuguese, was a fascinating and very fitting incorporation of Brazilian culture.

woman with a lizard in her mouth

The reptilian features are a significant catalyst of the rejection we as humans are conditioned to evoke. I found myself looking for other hints of Latin American influence throughout the film, Cribb explains, “It’s less about representing Brazilian culture directly and more about absorbing certain sensibilities like emotional intensity, a fluidity between reality and imagination, and an openness to the surreal and the absurd (which sometimes feels indistinguishable from reality).”

Ultimately, the film makes us question who gets to be vulnerable in the modern world of surveillance technology. Is it only those who present themselves in a socially acceptable way? I found myself wondering if my inability to look away was grounded in acceptance or rejection. And despite this ambiguity, I needed to show the film to everyone around me. I wanted others to experience the same level of confusion, admiration, and emotional intensity that I felt watching it for the first time. As I watched my peers react to the film, I noticed a striking similarity to my own reaction; the first instinct was discomfort and rejection, which, without fail, consistently developed into an almost addictive fascination. By the end of the film, we see Tixa break down into only remnants of herself, imitating the effects of confining ourselves to strict, socially constructed limits in a world of constant surveillance.

If you want to catch the film, it is showing until July 26th at the Wex.