There’s something deeply intimate about how Fremont portrays loneliness.
It doesn’t dramatize it. It doesn’t romanticize it.It just lets it exist.
Fremont lives in the awkward pauses.
Donya doesn’t know how to re-enter the world, so every interaction feels slightly off-balance. And we sit in that discomfort with her. The silences that go on just a second too long. The conversations that don’t quite land. And instead of being cringey, it feels… honest. Like real life when you’re lonely and trying your best not to look lonely.
Donya moves through her new life like someone trying not to take up too much space, and that restraint makes every small action matter.
When Donya slips her own message inside and leaves her name and number, that’s her being desperate for a dream in the most human way possible. It’s awkward. Risky. A little reckless. But it’s the first time she stops passively existing and actually reaches out.
It’s one of those films where nothing “big” happens, but somehow your chest feels heavy anyway.
There’s something deeply intimate about how Fremont portrays loneliness.
It doesn’t dramatize it. It doesn’t romanticize it.It just lets it exist.
Fremont lives in the awkward pauses.
Donya doesn’t know how to re-enter the world, so every interaction feels slightly off-balance. And we sit in that discomfort with her. The silences that go on just a second too long. The conversations that don’t quite land. And instead of being cringey, it feels… honest. Like real life when you’re lonely and trying your best not to look lonely.
Donya moves through her new life like someone trying not to take up too much space, and that restraint makes every small action matter.
When Donya slips her own message inside and leaves her name and number, that’s her being desperate for a dream in the most human way possible. It’s awkward. Risky. A little reckless. But it’s the first time she stops passively existing and actually reaches out.
It’s one of those films where nothing “big” happens, but somehow your chest feels heavy anyway.
