The film, marked by its sombre palette, is essentially a quiet, unrushed conversation that the protagonist is having with the viewer. As it comes into its own, the tone continues to grow in intimacy, imbuing the film with honesty and candour, thereby making its subject matter universal. The protagonist takes you along the circuitous route of his introspection as well as his interactions with the world without - invoking ideas of existentialism, nihilism, isolation, loneliness, and the manner in which he is located amidst this ongoing tussle between the several forces of consciousness. The film is a solo-project, and thus very evidently exhibits a consistency of vision and progression with regards to the narrative. Finally, it closes with the image of a fragment of a broken bridge, the entire structure destroyed. And yet, the protagonist continues with his work on a computer, as if his immediate reality is not a sight of immense destruction and upheaval, as if nothing has happened, for despite everything else, it is something to do, it is one more stab at making loneliness or simply existence, less overwhelming a proposition. He is flanked by two of his loyal companions (his past selves? emotional baggages?) who never leave his side, who now continue to work at the concrete and stone structure with their equipment, leaving you with the resounding question - are they rebuilding it or taking it down further?

Sometimes I Think About Things, and Sometimes I Get Sad | Short Film of the Day

In a world that battles spiritual and moral decadence, excesses of the body and seemingly limitless debauchery, our protagonist Orfeo, acquires the role of a contemporary Dante Alighieri on a quest to comprehend the idea of freedom and the meaning of existence. The film is especially notable in the manner in which it brings all of these concerns to life employing skilled, seamless visuals and equally strong writing to not simply match, but also enhance them. 

As Orfeo progresses from one corner of the night to another, moving from a Hellish den of addictions and promiscuity, to an isolating cab ride and then to a sudden encounter with a stranger, the narrative invokes almost a sense of nyctophilia with its portrayal of the night and its darkness. However, the emotional or mental darkness that it could potentially signify is not a welcome thought, but one requiring analysis, and even the pursuit of an escape from it, if one is possible to begin with. 

The film is grim, but poetic in its exploration and engagement with the human condition. The thematic issues it deals with are disconcerting, a similar disorientation also conjured by way of its visuals, but alluring in their surreal beauty. Consequently, traversing this landscape marked by its carnal nature, and an inherent meaninglessness, also becomes an exercise in admiring the aesthetics of darkness, one which is broken and interrupted, albeit in a controlled manner, only by city lights, or by the brief warmth of companionship, as fleeting as it might be, or in the hope that nights are sometimes accompanied by glowing stars, and always by the hope of a morning that would follow soon after.

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