Writer and director Tom Wright’s debut short film, Stockholm, explores the complex nexus of emotions that bind Alex (Alex Britt) to his past. The shadows of Alex’s past converge to form the amorphous figure of Ed (Max Percy), but initially, he seems to embody the light.
In the beginning, the soft glow of the bar tints everything with warmth. Cinematographer Darius Shu visually collects the small intimate movements you obsess over when falling in love with someone; watching them smile, or run a hand through their hair. Alex finds himself lost amongst these moments with Ed. But then the gentle innocence from seconds earlier is troubled. Wright’s film pulses with emotion, deftly moving between extremes as we become aware of a subtext lurking in the margins of the film, waiting to be exposed.
Stockholm isn’t so much concerned with the opposition of light and dark, but rather a portrayal of where light meets dark. Alex finds himself alone and navigating this area of uncertainty. To escape the fear, he begins to disappear down a tunnel of self-destruction. Drugs and alcohol mask the shame of a past we are still yet to fully comprehend.
In his careful control of how much the viewer understands the relationship between Alex and Ed, Wright reflects the complicated effects of trauma on a person. The disorientating effect on the memory is brought into clear view as Alex states, ‘I don’t remember much.’ Wright shows an impressively nuanced engagement with the psychological issues at hand – rather than having Alex tell the story he remembers, it is Ed’s voice that dominates the narrative. By excluding Alex’s voice from the film, Wright reflects how those in a more vulnerable position are in danger of having their truth overwritten by someone attempting to control the narrative.
It’s only in the final scene of the Stockholm when the strands of the film begin to properly knit together in viewers’ minds. Alex sits in a brightly lit room with a mental health professional (Rikki Beadle-Blair). Beadle-Blair’s presence immediately places the viewer in a more comfortable position as the film finds an optimistic chord upon which to finish
As the protagonist, Alex Britt takes on a stunning range of emotions with impressive depth. What the character lacks in voice, Britt makes up for in his physical performance, displaying incredible skill throughout. Max Percy’s understated representation of Ed is extremely effective and unsettling because of its indistinctness. Percy gives the character enough shape to make Ed compelling without jeopardising the power of allowing ambivalence to fester.
The film owes its stunning visuals to editor, cinematographer and producer, Darius Shu, supported by camera assistant Holly Smyth and lighting assistant Ekin Can Bayrakdar. The wonderful atmospherics captured through the camera work and use of lighting underpins the film with aesthetic confidence, lifting Tom Wright’s writing to even greater heights.
Stockholm continues the important movement to diversify the short film canon, foregrounding LGBT experiences that have previously been underrepresented while also telling an important narrative with great artistic skill.