★★★★☆ (4/5) — Not for the impatient, but for the broken-hearted who know that waiting can be its own kind of masterpiece. Angela White, as "-Vixen-", redefines the predator as the one who bleeds most.
The timestamp “23.07” feels deliberate—perhaps a reference to a specific hour of reckoning, or a nod to experimental runtimes. This is not a glossy music video or a standard short. It’s a slow-burn, almost Lynchian meditation on waiting, longing, and the corrosive sweetness of hope. -Vixen- Angela White - I Waited For You -23.07....
-Vixen- Angela White - I Waited For You -23.07... Review by: Echoing Shadows ”A Haunting Descent into Devotion and Delay” ★★★★☆ (4/5) — Not for the impatient, but
From the very first frame of -Vixen- Angela White - I Waited For You -23.07... , you sense you’re not just watching a performance—you’re witnessing a confession. The enigmatic "-Vixen-" prefix suggests a alter ego, a femme fatale archetype, but Angela White dismantles that trope within minutes. Here, the vixen doesn’t toy; she trembles . This is not a glossy music video or a standard short
The ambiguity. Did “you” ever arrive? The title refuses closure, and so does the piece. It’s less a story than a scar. Some viewers may find the pacing punishing (the 23 minutes feel like 23.07 hours of real waiting), but that’s the point. Art isn’t always comfort; sometimes it’s a mirror held to your own stalled moments.
White’s gaze. She doesn’t just look into the camera; she interrogates it. Every micro-expression—a twitch of the lip, a downward glance—carries the weight of unspoken years. The sparse, ambient sound design (footsteps on creaking wood, a distant train horn, a breath held too long) turns absence into a physical character. The final 90 seconds, where she mouths “I waited” without sound, is devastating.
Here’s an interesting, evocative review based on the title and artist names you provided—crafted to feel like a fan or critic’s perspective on a cinematic or musical work: