Nimic

Perhaps the greatest strength of 'Nimic (2019)' is its ambiguity, which keeps you pondering its meaning long after its credits have rolled. Though I felt as though I had a pretty solid grasp on what was actually happening as I watched it, a conversation with my brother soon led me to realise that even the aspects I took for granted as being 'canon' are actually rife for interpretation. Furthermore, the underlying "why" of it all is firmly out of reach; it's impossible to know if it's meant to act as an allegory for something or if it's simply designed to provoke thought regarding the themes and fears it touches on. It's an odd, unsettling and uncompromisingly enigmatic experience that gets under your skin without you really knowing why. It's calmly yet confidently constructed, with sleek cinematography and deadpan performances. It's a very dry affair and it certainly won't appeal to everyone, but - if you can get on its wavelength - it's a distinct and unnerving short that should keep you engaged throughout.

While this movie undeniably showcases the signature surrealism we've come to expect from Yorgos Lanthimos, it might just be a bit too enigmatic for its own good. The film navigates the complex themes of identity and human relationships with a disconcerting flair but often leaves viewers grappling for solid ground. Matt Dillon's performance, though commendably intense, sometimes feels overshadowed by the movie's overindulgence in its own obscurity. The pacing, though aiming for unsettling, occasionally veers into the tedious. The visuals and score, while atmospheric, may come off as heavy-handed to those looking for a subtler narrative. Overall, this movie is a testament to Lanthimos' distinctive style, but its insistence on ambiguity may not sit well with all.

I couldn't stop thinking of "The house that Jack Built" while watching this short. The choice of music, Matt dillon himself who appears in both everything looked somehow familiar.

The somnambulistic universe inhabited by Lanthimos/Fillipou characters is not limited to closures through the wide-angle lens use. It extends to a reactionary critique of home, family, affectivity, de-historicizing (contra, say, Bergman's similar doublings in 'Persona') the pathologies that afflict it by stretching the doppelgänger effect ad infinitum and by reducing structures to communicative breaching experiments.

It's less than 10 minutes and it's beautiful and enjoyable at least. It's like Dostoyevsky's "The Double" but really short and it's Lanthimos instead.