Céline Roustan
A woman and a man are in love, enjoying each other’s company. When they wake up, their arms have begun to blend. That’s weird! They try to go on with their day, but it only worsens. Writer/director Ben Brewer’s high-concept short takes the romantic adage, ”two become one”, quite literally in A Folded Ocean, cleverly using an absurd premise to explore a relationship drama with real poignancy.
We have all seen how romantic couples can change people. Friends who are displaced as the primary relationship in a person’s life often decry how that old friend becomes unrecognizable as their individuality is subsumed into the new entity of the partnership. This is the easily grasped context of A Folded Ocean and it gives Brewer, inspired in part by previous relationships of his own, a relatable foundation to attempt a rather bold tonal experiment. He explains to us that he wanted to see “…whether or not the grounded style of the dramatic films I enjoy could work in concert with some pretty gross visual effects.”
Anabelle LeMieux and John Giacobbe deliver unique performances
Undeniably universal, the narrative is a metaphor, and part of that “grounded style” is not leading with plot. Rather than narrative twists, it’s the visceral reaction the imagery triggers in viewers that leads the film. This clever visual depiction of such an intangible feeling is deeply affecting and also, importantly, remarkably convincing—the bodies melting into each other looks amazingly good. Brewer received much acclaim earlier this year for his VFX work on the Best Picture winner Everything Everywhere All At Once, and some of that talent is lent to A Folded Ocean, as the progression is quite captivating while being gross as well—we can’t take our eyes off of them becoming one.
In addition to the gross element of seeing their bodies combining the sound design heavily enhances one’s discomfort, prompting a physical reaction. Executed by S/W directing alum Bobb Barito (Light My Fire), the pacing, paramount in building the tension, also dictates the intensity of the sound design, resulting in a thrilling rhythm that contributes to the film being an entertaining watch, but will also make you think twice before touching anyone’s skin. The fact that the process is also alienating them from the outside world, unable to make a phone call, was also a subtle yet authentic layer to the narrative.
The performances, ironically, become more important as their bodies become less differentiated.
The acting duo Anabelle LeMieux and John Giacobbe are the emotional layer of the film that allows the audience to identify with them and their situation. I liked the idea that it happened, and no one was to blame. The pair’s chemistry made the film instantly engaging, but it’s how they deal with the situation they are facing that captivated me. They become progressively more scared and helpless until they have no choice but to face the terror of what is happening to their bodies. The two of them convey that terror astonishingly well, especially in an unusual performance where the primary instrument of their acting—their bodies—is progressively rendered unrecognizable. But, even as this process is underway their performances become more layered and deeper in the light of what they just went through.
Produced by S/W alum Emily Murnane, A Folded Ocean had its World Premiere at the 2023 edition of Sundance and debuted online as a Vimeo Staff Pick Premiere. Brewer has since had a film premiere at TIFF 2023, Netflix’s Reptile, where he is credited as a writer. He is also currently finishing a feature, Arcadian, featuring Nicolas Cage.