Molina

First-time writer/director Rich Chambers’s absorbing short film Molina is one filled with palpable tension from each moment to the next, where nothing is ever really what it seems and ultimately leaves you with something to ponder long after all is said and done.

The film opens with a man (Tizzard) and a younger woman (Verney) sitting together in silence in a pub. Their relationship is unclear, their body language not exactly friendly towards each other but other than that, very little is offered up to the particulars of their relationship. And this cagey, nature is how Molina chooses to tantalise and frankly torture its audience from that uncomfortable beginning all the way to its emotional end as those particulars in the film's own sweet time are slowly revealed to us.

Chambers has structured everything out in such a meticulously clever way that every time you think you’ve got a handle on things or a fleeting idea of which way all of this is going to turn, this unmistakenly talented filmmaker with an innate knack for compelling storytelling finds a way to pull the rug out right from under you, always keeping us on the back foot, ever careful with its words and jumping back and forth throughout the narrative to keep us guessing as it occasionally decides to drop little seeds of information here and there for us to pounce upon.

But within its crafty presentation also lies a film with a lot to say and even more for us to think about. Much like that other show it might well draw its inspiration from, Molina is set in the very near and not-too-hard-to-imagine future where society has arguably “advanced” into new technological horizons, but also like that show rightly raises a lot of ethical questions about how these “steps forward digitally” truly impact us, all the while also managing to weave a touching, complex and veritable story about humanity and connection.

And the main leads are on point here as well, both with commendable performances that are perhaps slightly more effective in the film's more serious moments than the jovial ones but still laudable in both. Tizzard is arguably given the most opportunity to show range here, excelling in both his character's moments of absolute desperation and longing, as well as managing to match that level with a darker, creepier side which as mentioned, when all the answers and contexts aren’t immediately known, makes for quite a tense affair you feel could quickly turn at any moment.

Matching them every step of the way though is Verney, who is allowed to really come into their own more in the latter half of the film and does so with a bang. It’s never really clear as to the whats, whys, and hows for either character choosing to involve themself in what the film finally reveals, or indeed what it might mean for them going forward. But despite not knowing either of those, both leads, Chambers, and everyone else involved have made sure that what we do get is a worthwhile story in its own right.

Tense, surprising, and deep, Molina is as solid a start for Chamber’s surely promising filmmaking journey as they could have wanted.