The Stranger I Love

The Stranger I Love is the distressing new drama from directors Theresa Godly - who also writes and stars in the piece - and Martin Gooch. It’s one of the most authentic and disturbing portrayals of parental alienation I’ve seen, and this is partly due to the subjective style of filmmaking the artists have opted for. We follow the character of Nina who is excitedly preparing for her son (Ezrah) to return from spending three weeks with his father, Mark. However, things take a dramatic and shocking turn when the boy refuses to acknowledge his mum. What makes this twist so effective is the tonal shift of the short’s style in tandem with the story. Through its expressive use of cinematography and sound design, the spectator experiences the traumatised headspace of our protagonist, and, in turn, considers deeply the complex scenario at play. It’s an impactful and high-quality film with an important message.

What the picture showcases visually are some bold and fascinating camera techniques. Specifically, the use of a kind of split diopter lens effect which distorts the multiple planes of focus within the frame. This tool, however, is not used randomly; it’s implemented only for the shots containing the main character – while coverage of Mark and Ezrah consists of a conventional clarity. By innovating in this way, the filmmakers create a wholly disruptive, upsetting atmosphere – one in which the protagonist can’t comprehend why this terrible thing is happening, and thus feels powerless. As the focus warps, as does Nina’s psychological being. It’s fantastic to see such an intelligent use of camera technique being utilised for narrative purposes; as a means of guiding the audience’s perspective. The juxtaposition of the smooth steady-cam with the instability of handheld is another filmic idea which is so well implemented: you can fully sense how powerless Nina feels in the face of Mark’s manipulation, just from the motion of the camera.

Our story comes to its conclusion when Nina, feeling that she has no other option, decides to phone a helpline. That’s where the narrative ends. However, the last of the runtime is spent acknowledging the real-world issue of parental alienation and individuals being estranged from their children. The end-goal of the piece is to spread awareness of the situation; and so, we’re shown an emotional montage of parents experiencing that very thing and for how long they’ve been without their loved ones.

You could argue that the open-ended conclusion of the film’s story perhaps lessens our engagement with the character’s arc; however, what this ambiguity does spark is the viewer’s questioning of the issue itself – turning what was at first fiction into a dark reality. We are confronted with the real people, and, therefore, the real danger of a parent manipulating a vulnerable child and hurting the other parent. It’s a very important discussion, and as an example of social cinema, it’s most thought-provoking and well-executed. Audiences will admire how effectively the artists have used cinema to bring light to this issue. I wholeheartedly recommend this ambitious, emotionally intelligent drama.