Director Ari Miller uploads a chilling and darksome visual journey into a world of a computer repair shop in Stephan’s Computer Parts. This gripping, surreal experience redefines the human connection with technology. Audiences are pulled into a nightmarish odyssey as Stephan (Sean Ian) indulges in a personal, erotic moment of pleasure with his VR headset, and then meets Albert (David Dotterer), a writer desperate to recover lost files from his laptop. The film invites viewers on an introspective journey of self-identity and discovery, as the search for the missing files sparks a distinctly original visual narrative. Stephan’s Computer Parts evokes the haunting, body-focused themes of early David Cronenberg films like Videodrome, exploring the complex interplay between technology and humanity, erotic narcissism, and the quest for pleasure.
Cinematographer (Rob Torres) employs intense colors and dark shadows to create a brooding, visceral scenic backdrop for this experimental short film. In the second meeting between Stephan and Albert, a wide shot features a slow, subtle zoom that lingers just long enough to build a sense of unease in the audience. This eerie, beautifully grotesque setting pulls viewers in, at times making them feel uncomfortable with what they are witnessing. The visuals are abstract, leaving the audience to question their symbolic meaning. Miller uses extreme close-ups and hyperbolic editing to push the emotional limits of human comprehension, crafting a gruesome and unsettling world. He also incorporates a bright red font with almost subliminal, poetic text that flashes by too quickly to read in its entirety. The film’s juxtaposition of trees and nature against the stark, mechanical elements highlights the contrast between the organic and the electronic, a theme Miller illustrates throughout the narrative.
The sinister sound design and modern score (Leon Sleator) play a crucial role in building an atmosphere of anxiety, drawing the audience deeper into the experience. The score evokes a sense of futurism and technology through punctuated electronic beats and tones, amplifying the tension. Together, the sound design and score leaves the audience with a lingering feeling of darkness, isolation, and mortality—creating a tension that makes them want to look away, yet sparking an inquisitive drive to continue watching. Stephan’s Computer Parts has won several awards on the festival circuit, including recognition for its sound design. Through Sleator’s use of audio cues, the audience feels a deeper connection to the characters, interpreting the sounds of the computer as an embodied lifeform. Audio mnemonics, such as the connection of a modem, the hum of a server venting heat, or the buzz of a circuit board booting up, echo the sound design in the film, enhancing its moody, cinematic world.
Ian’s performance as Stephan is creepy, darkly hypnotic, and poetic. He delivers Miller’s carefully orchestrated script with tense emotional inflection, conveyed through his facial expressions. Albert (Dotterer) provides a convincing balance to Stephan’s character, portraying an eclectic, nervous writer who may have lost his creative path and is now searching for a new phase in his life, while desperately trying to unlock the lost words on his laptop. His stammering unease keeps the audience on edge, wondering what mysteries lie hidden in his electronic prose.
The audience is drawn into an existential exploration of the blurred lines between humanity and technology. As we increasingly rely on computers for everyday tasks, are we becoming part of a vast organic-mechanical ecosystem where the distinction between human blood and AI chips is no longer clear? The connections between our cerebral cortex, brain stem, and the circuits of our phones and laptops are converging, forever altering the balance of the human condition. Miller successfully evokes a sense of foreboding terror about the future of technology, leaving the audience with a dark, bleak cinematic canvas for self-reflection. The filmmaker forces us to confront the inevitable march of technology, as it wages a virtual war with humanity.
