The darkness that comes from within us cannot be suppressed forever. Past transgressions sometimes surface, and it’s often not just the individual caught in the storm of repercussions but those near and dear to them. Jaylin Pressley’s street-level caper Lanez has family on its mind and what we might do to keep those closest to us out of harm’s way.
Lanez begins with a stirringly nonchalant monologue from Victor (Giuseppe Eslava) about hidden desires and guilty pleasures—the kinds we’d rather keep to ourselves. The young man lists off all manner of dirty secrets we might keep, only to land on an admission that his vices call on him to steal cars. Not a very compelling guilty pleasure, but nevertheless, the opening segment lays some promising groundwork.
Victor and Yasmin (Karlene Rivera) are survivors of a deadly housefire that led to their parents tragic passing. Yasmin has tried to make the fallout work for her, even going as far as to try and reconnect with estranged family members across the country. Victor, however, has a different kind of life in mind for himself and his sister— crime, more specifically of the grand theft auto variety. Placing himself above the law, Victor quickly alienates Yasmin, causing their relationship to begin fragmenting. Before long, revelations come to light that completely challenge the essence of their soul.
Pressley and co-writer Khalil Waldron aren’t dealing with easy topics here, and you have to commend their screenplay for tackling familial trauma at such a primal level. Gritty all the way through, Pressley’s approach to his film gives it a very appealing feel where most of its environment is concerned.
Lanez frequently flexes its dark, moody atmosphere, juggling actors and plot points that would be right at home on a streaming giant like Netflix. But in terms of refined storytelling, directing, and dialogue, Lanez is a bit of a disappointment. The opening monologue is the perfect example of how the short has no issues formulating bold ideas and thoughts for its characters, only for the punchline to come out forced and awkward. Victor and Yasmin will frequently engage in exposition for exposition’s sake, where we never feel like we are possibly relating to them. Victor will go on about protecting, defending, and all different variations of the word before doing everything but that for his sister. Then, once the dust has settled, it’s back to another lengthy rhetoric about himself. The actors give it their best shot, but neither of them, not even Eslava and Rivera, are able to compensate, nor are they able to fulfill the script’s lofty aspirations.
Though it has its moments as a grounded thriller, Lanez needs much more polish before it can unravel its complex emotional core.
