Céline Roustan
Jacob and Lily are having dinner with friends. At the end of the meal, as they are about to take shots, Lily inadvertently deadnames him. This unexpected violation prompts the couple to address the tension that had been accruing between them and to confront what their next step might be. Writer/director Aella Jordan-Edge’s Misnomer is a sensitive and subtle depiction of a couple having to face that they are not who they were when they got together, and how to redefine your identity when you also share one with your partner.
Breakup narratives can be performatively dramatic and messy, but Misnomer is a quiet, atmospheric film that is nonetheless very emotionally effective and poignant. While the situation is specific, there is a universality to the narrative that stems from the authenticity of the screenplay. It was no surprise when Jordan-Edge shared with us that it was actually based on her own experience of a past relationship. Even when there is love and support people change, thus changing the relationship as well. Misnomer captures the painful realization that “the person you are in a relationship with is no longer the same person you fell in love with”.
When a couple decides to separate it’s natural to take sides. Even in a short film where we are “strangers” to the couple with no history with them, it is human nature to make snap judgments. But, in this case, it is very difficult to do so. A big change has occurred, and both Jacob and Lily need to process it, yet it is their relationship that prevents them from moving forward. Their history and habits trap them in the past when both, but especially Jacob, need to figure out who he is as a man before who he is in that relationship. This journey of identity is personal, which is why there isn’t that much dialogue in the film. The most powerful moments in Misnomer are those where nothing is said—they carry the emotional weight of the narrative—but the absence of words also, achingly, shows the deep familiarity Jacob and Lily have in the way they know and understand each other.
Intimate handheld camerawork places the focus Rebekah Murrell and Em Thane’s performances.
The emotional rawness of the screenplay could only be translated on screen by creating an intimate setting visually. The DP, Rachel Clark, opted for hand-held shooting to craft a “naturalistic approach” that invites us into the couple’s home and allows us to see their love and the tension up close. They both know that the end is near and with the film’s editor, Trace Taylor, Jordan-Edge wasn’t afraid of a slow pace to the film, as the couple stretches out the inevitable and allows the audience to fully grasp all the emotions at play.
Ultimately, with such strong, nuanced, and layered material, performances need to carry the film. Rebekah Murrell and Em Thane as the two main characters bring Jordan-Edge’s words to the screen beautifully, capturing the depth of their characters’ love and intimacy, their history, and their identity crisis, as both have to redefine who they are and their relationship. Their chemistry is captivating, as they don’t need to speak to be able to communicate making the end of the film heartbreaking but also beautiful in some way.
Jordan-Edge is currently working on her graduation film at the NFTS that she describes as “a period piece, a road movie, a thriller and also kind of a romance all rolled into one” and is hoping to share the student films she’s made soon. She also has other projects in development, including a feature that she plans on focusing on after graduating.