Rod Blackhurst's short film "Alone Time" is nearly 13 minutes of a young woman doing the most normal things, yet nearly every moment is suffused with dread and anticipation. More on that in a moment.
We first join our protagonist Ann (Rose Hemingway) at a rooftop cocktail party where she is off by herself, lost in thought, clearly disconnected from the social scene. Then over the next several minutes of the film, we see her endure the monochrome NYC universe of cubicles, exhausting commutes, and sidewalk overcrowding. She is lonely, unfulfilled, and stifled by the concrete sprawl. We, too, want to come up for air. How much longer can she withstand such rote misery?
Ann is arguably a cinematic descendant of Travis Bickle, whose urban alienation she most definitely shares, but she is fundamentally wholesome and thinks in practical and decent terms for a solution to her isolation: a weekend camping trip in the Adirondacks. Now, the fact she goes alone is not a horror cliche but rather another layer to her personality. She is an introvert with a rich interior life and she needs to be truly alone in the quiet to recharge her batteries. I know many women like her, so this struck me as authentic, despite its obvious service to the unnerving plot.
Once Blackhurst's film moves to the mountains of upstate New York, the film is suddenly colorful, vibrant, and breathtaking. Ann's mood has clearly lifted, and we see that she is now enjoying a lifestyle more suitable to her spirit. This makes it all the more powerful and mysterious that we, the viewers, are now more unsettled than we were in the bleaker city scenes. Each shot feels like a warning. Each sound is suspicious. Something is definitely wrong.
The movie's brief, quietly spooky reveal is as mesmerizing as everything that preceded it, and you'll likely rewatch the film to catch what you might have missed. The thing is, Blackhurst and crew are so artful and subtle in their storytelling, you just might not spot all the clues. I haven't. But that's the whole point: powerful cinema works on the subconscious, and with smart psychological horror the damage is done long before the final details are settled.
