How do you find inspiration in a world that feels increasingly determined to take away your joy? This is the question posed in Objects of Affection, a short film from writer/director David Allan Rohrer, which explores the relationship between human connection and creativity, positing that the former is often necessary for the latter. What does one do, then, when the human connection they had disappears, and with it any semblance of creative inspiration?
This is the situation our main character Miles (Andreas Orrego), an aspiring painter in a strained marriage, grapples with throughout the film. His wife, Tara (Kianna Vo), seems to make a routine of coming home late at night and berating him: How can he continue to pursue painting if he can’t support himself? It’s a valid point, but what Miles needs isn’t someone to knock him down, but someone to acknowledge they believe in him. This is what he finds in Dylan (Allison Moses) during a chance encounter. She gives him something he can’t find within himself – his spark. The question then becomes, will Miles be able to hold onto this genuine connection, or will he let the forces that be stamp out his light, once again?
The story deftly balances many engaging ideas, characters, and storylines into its condensed runtime. Yet, it never feels as though it’s in a hurry. There’s an ease and suaveness to the storytelling, which is in part due to the efficient writing, and in another part due to the visual language. The cinematography – precisely shot by John Barrett – is quietly observant and nostalgic. The film opts to hold on a series of long takes as the characters move throughout the space. Seeing the characters interact in this more casual manner lends an authenticity necessary to connect with the audience. The combination of Kodak film and black and white adds to this nostalgic style, as well as gives the film a textural longing: The characters are trapped in a space without color, without life and vibrancy. Of course, this sensibility relies on the acting being equally effective. In this regard, Orrego and Moses are able to show the submerged longing and joy beneath their characters’ closed-off facades. They strongly display the rising tides of emotion as they rediscover parts of their being they forgot were there. The film’s core idea – the desperation for connection in a world continuously absent of such opportunities – is carried through each element, giving a cohesiveness to its storytelling.
Because there are so many thematically interesting elements at play, we find ourselves digging deeper into the messaging of the film and finding several questions. First and foremost, why has Miles’ marriage devolved so quickly? The character of Tara feels so outwardly cruel that we wonder how she’s gotten to this point, and where the rift in their marriage is coming from. Without the answer, we’re somewhat confused about how Miles has lost the connection he so desperately desires. Additionally, the film leaves us on a note that begs the question: What did it all mean? A few more answers to these questions – and more clarity on the characters’ fate at the end – may have given us a clearer picture of what the film was trying to say.
The quiet, quotidian nostalgia of Objects of Affection is full of fascinating characters longing for better days. Will they eventually find some semblance of the joy they once knew? Or, will they continue to be at the mercy of their relentless, cruel surroundings?
