Latest Short Film Reviews

A young girl sneaks into her classroom early, to leave her beloved teacher a present, but sees more than she should when she hides underneath the desk.

Tears Of Knowing from writer/director, Miles Marti follows young Ava (Shea) as she is dropped off to school early by her father. Ava is in primary/elementary school and is about six or seven years old. She knows that she is not supposed to be in the classroom without anybody else there, but she is so early, and there is nobody else about in the playground or the building, that she decides her class is the best place for her.

Whilst inside, Ava checks on the class pet, a golden haired guinea-pig by the name of Gus Gus. Poor little Gus Gus is far less perky this morning than he usually is and Ava can’t figure out what’s wrong – that is until Ms Price (Price) turns up acting all stressed and flustered, even more so than usual for an overworked, undervalued, and underpaid primary educator.

Ms Price is carrying a large cardboard box with holes in it, which is making little squeaking sounds, and Ava watches from her hiding place under one of the desks as a simple switcheroo happens right before her eyes. Ava then has to contemplate what she has just witnessed and must try to come to terms with it, whilst deciding just how this act is going to affect the relationship she has with one of her most trusted adults.

In the space of only six minutes, Marti tries to get across to us just how affecting small acts of subterfuge can be when played on the young minds of small children. As adults it can sometimes be only too easy to try to pull the wool over the eyes of the innocent, trotting out the tired old platitude to ourselves that ‘what they don’t know can’t hurt them’ and other such garbage. What we can fail to realise at times, however, is that children are far more knowledgeable and aware than we give them credit for, and that by trying to protect them we might be doing far more damage than we might believe.

A lot of the story is given to us through hand-held shots that drift this way and that, mimicking the young eyes of a curious child who is seeing more than they know they should, and Kai Romero’s cinematography keeps us right in the centre of the story with Ava. Marti’s direction, too, tries to keep Ava front and centre, never needing her to say too much for us to be able to understand her thoughts and her feelings, while her actions speak volumes about how she has come to terms with what she has witnessed. The setting of the classroom is also absolutely spot-on, with a real-life school being the backdrop for Ava’s story, and everything looking exactly the way an early years classroom would, bringing us directly into the frame along with the children in the class.

It is unknown whether Marti was trying to say anything with the choice of location in his movie, or whether it was just a convenient and accessible place to film, but the St. Jerome school offers another level of meaning behind the main message being given, especially if you consider the passage cited on the classroom door, of Matthew 4:19. We all know that the most pervasive lie that we tell children is the one about a jolly fat man with a white beard and a red coat who brings them presents at Christmas time. In fact it is so pervasive, and hard to shake, that most parents tie themselves in knots piling one fantastical fabrication on top of another to combat the justified questioning of the unlikeliness of it all, rather than admit to their children that they’ve being lying to them all of their lives. This can then, of course, be extrapolated to God, and the lies of all religions, which seek to ‘protect’ and ‘comfort’ the flock of innocents, whilst obviously using these lies for control and submission to authority.

Whether Marti is making these points or not, they are pertinent to the theme and message of Tears Of Knowing, and come out intrinsically through the watching of the film. It is not just the simple lie that is being covered up, it is also the blatant disregard for the actual knowing of the truth, that is so hurtful and damaging, although perhaps in the end ultimately freeing, for Ava. For what is on the surface a simple short film, Tears Of Knowing opens up a whole Pandora’s Box of questions for adults and parents to answer when deciding just how much of the world to share with their children, and which lessons should be taught when.

“Our Story was meant to be longer than a year; it was meant to be a lifetime”.

This is a short film looking at grief and how one young woman, Sage Evans, is coping a year after her boyfriend’s death. This was her first love, and we see how she struggles as grief impacts every part of her daily life. She battles to keep him close but is overwhelmed by the reminders of what happened that tragic day. To cope, she writes chapters in her diary, which help bring her lost love to life. Is this healthy, or is this taking her down a dark hole? It is amazing what can trigger a memory: a sound, a picture, or even a smell. The film shows all of this.

Genevieve Chenneour plays Sage Evans, and she does a remarkable job keeping the audience engaged. This is an achievement, as so much of the film focuses solely on her. With minimal dialogue, Chenneour successfully conveys the character’s sadness through her facial expressions and body language. Her actions make the audience feel the pain of loss as they follow her through every emotion. This powerful performance will speak to many who have experienced the pain of grief. Alfie Noble gives a sincere performance as Riley Leeks, the boyfriend who has been lost far too soon. He and Genevieve Chenneour have strong chemistry as they bring comfort and sadness to the main roles. His character delivers an important message that it is time to move on. There are disturbing moments, but they give the audience a gritty reality outside of Sage's mind.

Caroline Hajny directs and has experience developing stories with a female lead. In this film, she has created a beautiful story that will have a lasting effect on its audience. The locations support the actors’ portrayal of loneliness, and the close-up camera work helps the viewer understand how the main characters feel. The musical score is well chosen to reflect the sadness in each scene, particularly those involving Sage and Riley. Music can play a pivotal role in emphasising emotions and developing a film's many layers.

Some words will leave an imprint on the audience, and that comes down to the writer's talent. Some of the script is pure poetry with a beautiful insight into how a person can feel when someone close has died. It is impossible to know what people are going through, and the writer delves into the loneliness that accompanies grief with a powerful closing message. The words are delivered softly but with conviction, making them even more thought-provoking.

I think every part of this film will tug at the heartstrings and allow viewers to reflect on their own feelings of loss and grief. The cast's performances are highly impactful and show that grief can affect everyone around you. Film can make a real impression and play an important role in people’s lives by giving them characters they can connect with. This film certainly does that.

Every Time I See a Yellow Car (2026) follows protagonist Olly as he is troubled by his childhood trauma and recent sexual assault. His declining mental health causes him to spiral, as his older brother attempts to protect him in violent ways. Their different approaches to healing cause a large rift between the brothers and as their methods of overcoming emotional distress contradict each other, more pain is forced upon the pair.

This short film is beautifully written; the voiceover explains enough, yet not too much, keeping you engaged and curious throughout. Audiences can enjoy the buildup of tension before the twist in the narrative changes everything. The film tells the story in a non-linear way that is composed of delicate sound work and interesting cinematography. The use of colour, especially the reinforced meaning behind the yellow (which seems to forcefully display a never-ending cycle of trauma), is tactically placed, enhancing the flashbacks to Olly’s childhood.

The performance of Ty Tennant (previously known for his 2022 work in House of the Dragon) was exceptional, full of depth and emotion without an ounce of melodrama. His exhibition of mental health was subtle yet deeply moving and his voiceover elements were executed with such conviction.

The act of displaying trauma and sexual assault through the journey of brotherhood was a unique approach, one that ensured the audience could empathise with the characters without needing to know every small detail of their previous hardships. The shots of the young boys playing the game ‘yellow car’ definitely aid in the amount of sympathy felt by audiences. It is a breath of fresh air that the film ensures viewers understand the characters as more than what has tragically happened to them.

One of the most breathtaking shots that stands out is the choreography of the hands coming out of the yellow car, an eerie sight when you begin to understand the symbolism behind the use of the colour yellow. Another creative choice that was intelligently produced is the reveal that the ‘therapy’ session with Olly is being watched by what seems to be investigators. This helps round off the narrative and ensures audiences have a moment where everything clicks into place for that satisfying ‘aha’ moment.

Overall, this short film is produced with great professionalism; all technical elements seem to be of the highest quality. The non-linear structure and fast-paced montages keep viewers engaged throughout, and the performances in such a touching story are admirable.

Midnight Bloom follows the friendship between two young fathers, Aaron (Raphael Santiago) and Jamie (Tyler Astley), as it deepens into a powerful, fragile romance. The two men meet in an isolated car park night after night, and by day, the love for their families calls them back. As Aaron grapples with split loyalties, he wonders if he can maintain his relationship with Jamie before he loses everything.

What is perhaps most compelling about Midnight Bloom is how the filmmakers delicately pull the audience into the lives of Aaron and Jamie. Despite the lack of characterisation and context surrounding the central characters' encounters, the dialogue is incredibly compelling, profoundly capturing the growing sense of yearning and guilt between them. It's an uplifting depiction of queer love, as Aaron and Jamie’s relationship is heartwarming while also tragic, as they are forced to hide their feelings for each other in an isolated car park. The script, wonderfully written by Jake Williams, explores the deeply intriguing themes of desire, guilt and queer love, weaving them seamlessly into the personalities and experiences of its central characters. While these themes and ideas could have been more fleshed out in an extended runtime, the film leaves the viewer wanting more without overstaying its welcome.

Despite the film's brisk runtime, you can easily root for Aaron as the narrative delves into his struggles with fatherhood. The dialogue compellingly explores themes of melancholy and love, and its dramatic beats resonate throughout. While the film could have explored more of Jamie’s personal life beyond his relationship with Aaron, his performance subtly conveys the depth of his feelings. The narrative also briefly explores Aaron’s relationship with his child, which is one of the most compelling aspects of the script and the emotional crux of the conclusion (without venturing into spoiler territory).

The technical aspects of Midnight Bloom are incredibly impactful, thanks to its incredible cinematography and tight editing. Joshua Ighodaro serves as the film's cinematographer and does a wonderful job framing each scene. The piece primarily utilises extreme close-ups in the more intimate scenes as the characters grapple with the isolation and guilt of their relationship. The camera also shifts to wide framing within the confines of the car park to convey the desolation of the location. Hector Miller serves as the film's editor and does a tremendous job seamlessly cutting between the central characters' meet-ups and personal lives, intertwining them throughout with some incredible dissolves.

The two central performances from Raphael Santiago and Tyler Astley, portraying Aaron and Jamie respectively, are incredibly compelling. They both convey their characters' guilt-stricken personalities with remarkable depth while simultaneously preserving the tenderness and warmth that develops between them in isolation. Their magnetic chemistry makes for an incredibly thrilling experience. It's also difficult to watch as Jamie desperately craves more reciprocation from Aaron, longing to take their relationship beyond the confines of the car park.

Midnight Bloom is an emotionally resonant short film steeped in melancholy and desire, anchored by two remarkable central performances. While its brisk runtime may come at the expense of deeper characterisation, it remains a worthwhile effort, elevated by exceptional editing and striking cinematography.

This is a short film looking at Cambodian Gang life in the USA. The title is an amalgamation of Khmer which is the ethnic group of Cambodia and their official language and American. The film opens up with two young Cambodian-American teenagers discussing their future while setting up for the morning shift at the family Donut shop. Soon their peace is destroyed by the very life they are both trying to escape from. This is an introduction to the world of Cambodian gangs.

This is an adrenaline-charged picture that really makes the audience fear what will happen next. The score starts softly and then slowly builds to a heavy beat to complement the pace of the action that is unfolding. This is an emergency situation which is being driven by a pretty scary individual with a formidable presence.

The performances throughout are outstanding. The audience will really believe what is happening and fear for those involved. The tension amongst the main characters is palpable as barriers develop; so does the fear. This appears to be a debut film for David Klaut as Sovankary, the teenager trying to keep a clean life in helping his father run his Donut shop. This is a mature performance showing great skill in reacting to everything that is going on. Klaut is able to convey the stress that his character is under as the situation becomes more and more perilous. This is supported by the performance of Sam Puefua, who plays the gang member Monk. Puefua shows real menace with this character, helped by his physical presence in each scene. The danger they all face feels real, and there is no let-up in the action. The physical aspects of each performance are choreographed well, and the audience is treated to each character's viewpoint, as the camera moves around the scene. Overall, this is superb casting.

The director Jimmy Chhiu skilfully navigates each scene in what is a claustrophobic environment. The close-up camera work adds to the tension, making the action that much bigger and elevates the threat that each character is under. The opening scene develops the background of the two teenagers. The character Bountha is striving to improve his life, and Sovankary is resigned to a future at the shop because this is the only life for those born of refugees. What starts off as an everyday shift soon derails into violence. Chiuu works the script well and has a good eye for location for both internal and external sets. The choice of musical score is perfectly chosen.

The writer is able to present a snapshot of what life is like for gang members in the U.S. They have developed each character, and in a short time we learn their background. Even those who don’t make it on screen have an impact on the situation. The audience learns about the family dynamic and the battle Sovankary has to stay on the right side of the law and away from danger. The dialogue sounds authentic, which really helps the actors deliver on their performances.

This is a well-polished film with some superb performances. It is a mixture of relentless action where the audience will struggle to catch their breath and calm, thoughtful dialogue. It is a scene from your worst nightmare, and, unfortunately, scenarios like this are all too common. The viewer will have plenty to contemplate when the film stops rolling.

Cancer Kid is a dark comedy about a schoolyard prank that keeps Elliot (Charlie Zeltzer) spiralling down into a health anxiety hole. His life seems over as he tries to understand his own mortality.

Throwing us right back to our school days, we follow innocent, naive Elliot navigating school life and bullies. Without going into spoilers, the set-up of the prank is so nostalgic. This was one that went round every school and caused panic but also, upon reflection, carried a lot of weight. Adulthood and so many serious issues are touched upon in this but through a comedic sense of wonder about the world. It uses children’s innocence to open up a wider conversation whilst balancing a lightheartedness.

The children’s performances are strong; they don’t really understand the gravity of the situation and how to properly comfort Elliot in such a vulnerable moment. They are, as to be expected, very childlike responses and matter-of-fact, which really pushes the comedy element. Their lives consist of going out to play and their biggest worry being what’s for tea tonight?

Even his own family can’t believe what he is saying. Battling his own demons, but he doesn’t quite understand them himself. We see Elliot going through Google searches, misspelling serious terminology, reading and frightening him, all adding to the health anxiety. One scene in particular shines through when he’s going through his mum’s medication drawer and picks the option he does, completely clueless but hilarious. His solution to this life-altering prank is extreme and he doesn’t quite understand the consequences, writing out a letter to his family that’s heartfelt but naive.

The quality is apparent in this film: well shot, clean audio, and sound design throughout. The sound, especially, is used as an effective device to portray Elliot’s emotions through shock, sadness, and disgust, and helps to strengthen the comedic timing during dialogue. The relationships are well established in this film: the easygoing friends, the annoying older brother, and the unaware mother. It grapples with growing up and that ever-looming thought process of self-awareness and existence.

Most age ranges could watch this and take something away from it. From an adult audience, it hits so many relatable marks, having grown up with the same elements of childhood and how we learn lessons the hard way. The ending just solidifies that point, and it’s really well executed, leaving Elliot in a state of disarray and relief.

It’s no wonder that Cancer Kid has won Best Short Film at the Blue Mountain Film + Media Festival, Toronto Independent Film Festival, and Vancouver Island Short Film Festival, and was an Official Selection at the Austin Film Festival. It’s an independently produced dark comedy made by brothers Vasili and Dimitri Manikas.

This project alone proves the brothers’ dedication to filmmaking and creates excitement for any future endeavours.

Directed by Remi R.M. Moses, Hindsight follows a young man called Jamal as he buys his first car. Initially an energising novelty among his group of friends, the unexpected caveats of extensive repairs, occurrences of prejudice, and an increase of mundane family errands, make Jamal’s newfound freedom more of a chore than a joyride.

This entire short-film is presented through a sequence of carefully framed match cuts looking from the front of the car’s bonnet inward, a fantastic framing device that challenges the writer to convey a clear vignette of the protagonist’s life purely within the confines of a car. This is made even more impressive by the discovery that most, if not all, of this film was shot on a virtual stage. With a high potential of looking cheap or unnatural, this production manages to utilise the virtual shooting space to its highest effect, and one could easily mistake the car’s location for a tangible one. “When done correctly, virtual production not only solves logistical problems, but also provides a more liberated canvas on which to paint with light and to craft gorgeous cinematic images” remarks V Studio’s VP supervisor/ head of studio Kate Phibbs in relation to this shoot, which is clearly reflected here through the high level of preparation and precision on display from director of photography Fola Abatan.

At the core of the story lies four fantastic central performances from Josh Tedeku, Jude Carmichael, Denzel Baidoo, and Joshua-Alexander Williams that all feel effortlessly relatable, each bringing their own unique energy and humour to their respective roles. This is testament not only to the spot-on casting, but also Moses’ ability to direct actors with such ease and freedom that it plays to the audience as if each moment were entirely candid.

What could easily stick to being a comical tale about four friends and their first car is also laced with deeper themes as Jamal experiences viscerally true-to-life trials such as being racially profiled by police officers, drifting from friends over time, and being suffocated by financial burdens. All of this culminates in a surprisingly hard hitting coming-of-age story that any adult, no matter what demographic, sex or religion they belong to, can sympathise with.

Hindsight is a wild ride and drives the thin road between humour and sincerity to outstanding success, all the while showcasing originality, innovation and talent from all the creatives involved. I have no doubt we will be seeing a lot more exciting work from this team in future.

Hindsight premieres at the BFI London Film Festival in October.

Homeless is a short film released in 2025, directed and written by Rikhiil V Bahadur. Throughout it’s 18 minute runtime, the short follows Roufus (Rocco the Adorabull) as he leaves his current life behind and bonds with Fred (Blakely David), a homeless man he encounters outside of a coffee shop. The heartwarming relationship formed between these two protagonists allows for a deeper, feel good approach towards the content. Exploring such topics is cleverly enhanced through the use of this canine star, shifting focus onto their raw connection rather than dialogue which provides unnecessary exposition as to how the pair feels. Theory of mind between our deuteragonist Fred and those viewers with pets will not come difficultly, as it is very easy to place yourself in his human perspective of the camaraderie.

We begin with an insight into Roufus’ home life, in which he is practically shunned away for simply seeking positive affirmations from his owners, Katie (Sam van Goph) and Linda (Evelyn Tran). This instantly informs the audience that Roufus is a sympathetic and endearing character, rather than an outright disobedient dog. His home life difficulties are shown to lead to some destructive behaviour, however his owners clearly fail to see how this can be traced back to their own argumentative and dismissive behaviour. Upon partnering with Fred as he is left by his disengaged carers, Roufus instantly receives food, water, and friendly remarks - these are all rarities within his own home and is even later repaid by the dog as he find food for him and his new friend to eat. It is very clear that the duo see reflections of themselves within the other, strengthening their bond and helping them both through their trauma together. In the latter half of the short film, this teamwork is demonstrated beautifully as Fred even puts his life on the line during a robbery to ensure our main characters safety (once more, this is later reciprocated as Roufus refuses to leave Fred’s side upon his previous owner’s return). The juxtaposition between his newfound life in contrast to his previous neglect is able to subvert expectations and stereotypes for those with versus without stable housing, displaying how a truly formed attachment will prevail throughout adversity. The story ends peacefully, open-ended as to where Roufus and his mankind counterpart will be taken in the future. Only one thing is for certain: they have each other.

A large portion of the production of the short was largely under the influence of Rikhiil V Bahadur, however other notable figures include co-producer and Shahchi Sharma and cinematographer Dan Barham. The visual style largely takes inspiration from the wondrous city of Vancouver, Canada and the film itself was made possible by the Vancouver Indie Film Community. One specific quote from Bahadur himself tells how the creation of Fred and Roufus were directly encouraged by a homeless man and his “beautiful dog”, alongside a comfy duvet outside the director’s apartment in the very same city. A noticeably warm colour palette mirrors the flourishing affection these two characters form throughout, whilst some scenes depict a harsher grey-ish scale to display brief moments of despair. Choosing to close up toward Roufus’ eyes in various shots, assist in humanising the character and translate his emotions as this is sometimes a simpler guide to gaze upon rather than body language. The acting of this talented pooch cannot be understated, hitting each mark and remaining eloquent throughout some tough to watch scenes as to retain Homeless’ comforting nature. Cleverly placed and quirky sound design also ensures the tone of the film remains light-hearted rather than strictly mean spirited, as that could dampen the overarching message. The short dedicates itself to animals without a permanent home with a written message after the narrative, a smart chronological choice following the engaging hypothetical viewers are met with. The zero budget short movie made a DirecTV network debut on 31st May 2025, followed by international streaming release to Amazon Prime on 1st June 2025.

Overall, the serious message of Homeless is wrapped neatly and delivered carefully under layers of optimism which shine throughout. It is recommended to those who may need to reignite a feeling of deep connection within their own life as it lends out it’s positive nature. A small budget could have assisted in displaying some of the adventures our loving pair engage in following these events, perhaps in a follow up short or extended version of the original. This may have meant minor issues could have been avoided also, such as slight continuity errors and a lack of severity when dealing with Roufus’ abandonment which in turn would reinforce the relief of unity between him and Fred; these hardly hinder the message of the film, however, as it remains impactful within it’s own right. Those behind the scenes and on camera were able to come together and share an important anecdote relating to animal and human welfare alike in the absence of a true home. Even through troubling times, everybody deserves someone to form a deep-rooted and loving connection to, and this short ensures you do not leave unaware of this fact.

Shannon Lee’s Head of a Camel is an experimental, circuitous animated film about a Korean-American woman who tries to reconnect with her cultural roots by conjuring a mystical creature from an ancient Daoist recipe.

Head of a Camel is closer to a visual poem than a conventional film: it has no on-screen actors, little narrative, and a minimal score. The sounds mainly consist of a narrated recipe describing the anatomy of an Asian dragon.

The film’s greatest strength is its visual style. It opens with poem-like text, each line appearing on screen as though thoughts are being set down on a page. These words describe the physical distance between the narrator’s mother and sister, as well as the difficulty the narrator and her father have communicating. 

To reconcile her Western identity with her cultural heritage, the narrator turns to an ancient recipe. As she recites it, images of its animal ingredients flash rapidly across the screen, which include a frog’s belly, a hawk’s claws, a carp’s scales, and, of course, a camel’s head. I particularly liked how the parts appear to be cut from the animals in a papier-mâché-like style. 

The rapid sequence of photographs also recalled the opening of Gaspar Noé’s Enter the Void, though Lee’s imagery is more ethereal and dreamlike. She created the effect by placing photographs directly beneath the camera. When the recipe reaches the camel’s head, the narration slows, deepening the dreamlike mood. 

Despite the strange imagery and measured delivery, the sequence is engaging and almost hypnotic, as if something is truly being conjured. Sounds resembling stones grinding together further enrich the atmosphere.

This short film will not appeal to everyone, and some viewers may struggle to follow its narrative. Its abstract ideas and four-minute runtime leave its theme, reconnecting with one’s culture from halfway across the world, feeling underdeveloped. Those who prefer conventional storytelling may also find its unconventional approach off-putting.

Overall, Head of a Camel is an abstract, cryptic film whose striking visuals and Foley effects create a dreamy, hypnotic experience. Its lack of a cohesive plot and dialogue may leave some viewers confused, but it remains an engaging four-minute watch.

SILENCE is a Ukrainian short film written and directed by Pavlo Shpegun. The film stars young, fresh-faced actors, with Hryhoriy Naumov as Luka and Iolanta Bohdiun as ‘Mia’. Set in the war-torn country of Ukraine, SILENCE poses intriguing questions about identity and time, using almost exclusively indoor, intimate shooting styles to create a dreamlike array of sequences with surreal characters. The film incorporates political dark humour and relies on the impeccable chemistry between Naumov and Bohdiun to carry most of the narrative. It all begins when Luka’s stand-up comedy act has a very disappointing reception, enjoyed only, and wholeheartedly, by a mysterious nameless woman, who requests to stay over at his place.

Shpegun’s short had a tremendous run at the 83rd International Venice Film Festival, receiving the newly established prize of the Airone della Laguna- International Collateral Award. One of its many achievements is in the film’s ingenious title; a play on words, as the writers parallel the significance of silence in a comedian’s terms- a marker of their death- to the indefinite silence of the tragic lives lost to the conflict in Ukraine. Whilst bringing avid awareness to the monstrosities occurring in the current political world, SILENCE is mostly a lighthearted film, and fits, though atypically, within the romance genre.

Luka and Mia’s first interactions do not present an immediate spark the way viewers may expect within a meet-cute. Their conversations are slightly awkward and Luka even seems uncomfortable with the forwardness of Mia’s intrusion. However, as the film goes on, the two characters are brought together by an emotional connection, more specifically a shared understanding of the devastating world they are living in. This acknowledgement seems to bring them both some comfort, as they both recognise that their hopelessness brings them a sense of freedom.

Mia is characterised very similarly to Kate Winslet’s Clementine Kruczynski as seen in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, fitting into the manic pixie dream girl trope with her mysterious and unpredictable personality. Similarly to Charlie Kaufman’s 2004 sci-fi romance, there is intrigue in the clear temporality of Luka and Mia's relationship, and in the way the characters seem not to fully understand one another, or the world around them, but still have a distinct and unique connection which audiences feel transfixed by.

Along with its surreal feel and alluring characters, SILENCE contains important commentary about modern relationships, particularly in concordance with the patriarchy and the way that women are taken advantage of. Some nuances of this are seen in the subtle shot choices during Luka and Mia’s sexual exchange, as there is no attention drawn to intimacy or pleasure; it is a purely loveless act, posing the way that sex is seen as an expectation in dating nowadays, rather than an act of passionate connection.

With many strong ideas about the political state of the world, touching characters, and incredibly artful uses of lighting and handheld camera work, SILENCE is an excellent example of genre-blending filmmaking, with an incredibly memorable finish to fully bring the film’s message home.