Drama
Retribution
Directed by Brock Eastwood
Warning – This review contains spoilers
My popcorn was all buttered up and I was set to check out Brock Eastwood’s Retribution when I found myself drawn into its intriguing dystopian premise. Set in a future world where therapeutic treatments are disguised as punishments for society’s criminals, the film tackles some big questions about morality, memory, and the consequences of an authoritarian system. The story centers around Nicholas (played by Dane Keckley), a young man seeking redemption or perhaps simply closure after a traumatic experience. He undergoes a novel “treatment” at a futuristic clinic, hoping to address the guilt and pain from losing someone he loved, only to discover that the process has darker implications.
One of the strengths of Retribution lies in the way it gradually reveals its world. At first, I wasn’t quite sure where the story was headed, but small details hinted at the dystopian nature of the society. The AI-enforced curfews, the rigid controls, and the dehumanizing clinical treatment all come together to paint a picture of a future that feels both frighteningly real and disorienting. The concept reminded me of films like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and 1984, especially in how it explores memory manipulation as a form of control. The comparison to Logan’s Run is also apt, given the film’s themes of life, death, and rebellion against a system that punishes those who step out of line.
Technically, the film had a few highs and lows. The cinematography, particularly in the outdoor scenes, was beautifully shot. There’s a sunset transition that felt genuinely poetic, adding a layer of emotional depth to the moment between Nicholas and Merin (Avery Pizzuto). However, the lighting in some interior scenes felt overexposed, making certain moments feel too harsh for the emotional weight they were trying to carry. Sound design was mostly solid, though I did notice some unclear dialogue in the opening scene, which could have benefited from a cleaner mix. Despite these minor issues, I thought the editing in key moments, especially the reveal of Nicholas’ memories, worked really well. The timing of these cuts built tension effectively, particularly as the film reached its emotional climax.
What fascinated me most about Retribution was its exploration of grief and memory. Nicholas is clearly haunted by the death of Merin, and the clinic offers him a chance to relive, if not alter, those painful memories. There’s something inherently tragic about a world where even our most intimate memories can be subject to manipulation. The twist near the end caught me off guard, although in hindsight, it felt inevitable. That unanswered mystery left me unsettled in a good way. It’s the kind of ambiguity that prompts further reflection.
I did feel the film could have been clearer in its world-building. Some of the dystopian elements, like why Merin died while Nicholas survived or the exact nature of the clinic’s purpose, weren’t fully fleshed out. These gaps in the narrative left me feeling slightly adrift, especially toward the end when the lines between reality and memory blur completely. The ending, while effective in its jarring nature, raised more questions than it answered. Why did Merin ultimately turn on Nicholas? Was it part of the “treatment” or something deeper within their relationship that we missed? These ambiguities could be intentional, but I found myself wishing for just a bit more clarity.
That said, I think audiences will appreciate Retribution for its ambitious storytelling and the questions it raises about memory, justice, and personal responsibility. The performances, particularly from Keckley and Pizzuto, were strong, with both actors delivering emotional depth in scenes that required subtlety. I also found the production design impressive, especially the use of minimalist, sterile environments in the clinic scenes, which heightened the cold, clinical feel of the dystopian world.
Retribution is a thought-provoking short film that, despite some narrative hiccups, offers a compelling look at how we process grief and guilt in a society that seeks to control even our memories. Fans of dystopian sci-fi and psychological thrillers will likely find much to enjoy here, especially in its exploration of love, loss, and the dangers of a system that prioritizes punishment over healing. It left me with a lot to think about—and in my book, that’s always a sign of a film that succeeds in leaving a lasting impact.
Drama
The Witch of Endor
Directed by Derek Hutchins
Warning – This review may contain spoilers.
The Witch of Endor, directed by Derek Hutchins, adapts the biblical story of King Saul (Dave Martinez) as he seeks out the Witch of Endor (Ehlana Bo) in a desperate attempt to summon the spirit of the Prophet Samuel (Devin Tanner). Saul is shunned by God and in his final act of desperation he turns to the supernatural for guidance on how to save his kingdom. This short film does a great job of capturing the dark, mystical atmosphere surrounding the story as it navigates themes of power, fear, and spiritual conflict.
Martinez’s portrayal of King Saul is solid capturing a man who is on the verge of losing everything and frantically grasping at anything that might save him. Ehlana Bo brings a haunting presence to the film although her introduction from a distance takes away some of the immediate tension. While the story is grounded in biblical context the performances particularly during the scenes of Saul’s desperation and his violent confrontation with the Witch, convey the emotional weight of the story even for those unfamiliar with the original biblical narrative.
That said the film does feel like a piece of a larger story. The characters have potential for deeper exploration but their development feels somewhat limited by the runtime. There are missed opportunities to delve into Saul’s deteriorating mental state or to build more tension in the scenes between the Witch and Saul. For example, close-ups during their confrontation would have added intensity and given more depth to their interactions. Additionally, the story relies heavily on exposition delivered through opening text, which lessens the impact of the characters’ dialogue and the weight of their choices.
Visually the film is striking, making great use of lighting especially considering the nighttime setting and reliance on torch and firelight. The compositions are well thought out and the choice to have much of the action play out in low light contributes to the eerie mood. However there are some shots that feel slightly out of focus which can be a bit distracting in moments of high tension. Despite this the sound design and editing do a good job of immersing the audience in this mystical world. The melancholic score and the crackling sounds of the fire help to create a sense of foreboding as Saul’s fate becomes increasingly grim.
Overall, The Witch of Endor is a visually strong adaptation of a biblical tale though its short runtime limits the depth and emotional connection the story could achieve. The performances, especially by Martinez as Saul, are engaging and the film’s style is effective in setting the stage for a mystical and ominous narrative.
The Witch of Endor is a solid short film that showcases an intriguing moment from the Bible but it misses some opportunities to fully flesh out its characters and build a more intense emotional connection. The cinematography, sound design, and performances do much to bring the story to life. Fans of biblical adaptations or mystical narratives will likely appreciate the atmosphere and tension of the film.
Drama
Wildcat
Directed by Laurie Powers Going
Warning – This review may contain spoilers.
Wildcat tells the story of Clara (Brenda Hattingh Peatross) a determined mother searching for answers after her husband, Sam (Johnny Chops), and daughter, Dottie (Elle Graper), mysteriously disappear. Set in early 1900s Texas during the oil boom, the film weaves themes of desperation, isolation, and the supernatural as Clara stalks the crew Sam worked with, believing them responsible for her family’s disappearance. The narrative takes a darker turn when Dottie suddenly reappears, but with something unsettling about her. Throughout a long, tension-filled night, Clara and Otis, the oil well owner (Adam Kitchen) come face to face, while a malevolent force toys with them.
The film effectively builds suspense and I found Clara’s desperation to be compelling as Peatross delivers a strong performance that carries the weight of her character’s emotional turmoil. Her portrayal of a mother driven by grief and anger anchors the film’s tension. However, the story leaves some critical gaps. There’s no clear explanation about how long Sam and Dottie have been missing or what circumstances led to their disappearance, which makes it harder to connect deeply with Clara’s quest. Dottie’s ghostly return, while eerie, lacks the necessary backstory to make her presence feel fully justified within the narrative, which diminishes the emotional impact of the film’s conclusion.
The sound design creates a tense atmosphere especially with the ominous noises that heighten the sense of dread. However, the song choice at the very end doesn’t fit with the rest of the film’s tone. The cinematography misses the opportunity to fully showcase the vast, desolate plains of Texas, which could have deepened the themes of isolation and loneliness. While the editing was uneven in sustaining the horror aspects, there are standout moments, particularly the scene where Otis throws a knife at Dottie’s ghost, a sequence that is both chilling and well-executed.
The performances were solid with Brenda Hattingh Peatross bringing a strong sense of intensity to Clara, and Adam Kitchen’s portrayal of Otis offering a grounded counterbalance to her increasingly frantic behavior. Johnny Chops brings a subtle but important layer to Sam’s backstory through flashbacks, while Elle Graper as Dottie brings an eerie, unsettling presence to her ghostly role.
Wildcat struggles to fully connect due to its lack of clear backstory and character development. The plot feels disjointed at times, and the motivations behind certain supernatural elements remain unclear. The final scene, while visually striking, doesn’t carry the emotional weight it could have if the film had done more to build the relationship between Clara, Sam, and Dottie.
Wildcat explores themes of desperation, grief, and isolation within the framework of a thriller set in the Texas oil boom. While Laurie Powers Going delivers a suspenseful short, and the cast, particularly Brenda Hattingh Peatross and Adam Kitchen, bring strong performances, the film leaves too many questions unanswered. I feel audiences seeking a slow-burn thriller may appreciate the tension. I just wanted more backstory and deeper character connections. Still, its worth a watch!
Drama
Measure of Creation
Directed by Ashton Sterling Bingham
Warning – This review may contain spoilers.
Measure of Creation is a heartfelt short film that allows us to see the world through Lydia’s innocent eyes, where life’s simple moments—like spending time with family or riding her bike—become extraordinary. I couldn’t help but feel the warmth and joy that Lydia experiences as she shares the things that make her happy. It’s an easy film to follow and I found it to be a comforting and heartwarming reminding me of the beauty in everyday life.
The cinematography really stood out to me. The close-ups and the different angles, like the shot from under Lydia’s bike handle, made me feel like I was right there with her, experiencing her excitement firsthand. The lighting was bright and uplifting, adding to the warmth of the film. The editing flowed smoothly, capturing the fun moments Lydia shared with her family, and the sound was clear, making sure Lydia’s voice and emotions were always at the forefront. The score was subtle yet powerful, especially during the moments when Lydia reflects on her late grandfather.
I connected with this film on a personal level, particularly as someone who once experienced childhood in much the same way—finding joy in the routine of everyday life. The way the film captures the love between Lydia and her family was deeply relatable, especially during the tender moments that reflect on the importance of family connections.
This film shines with its strong cinematography and editing. The lighting complements the uplifting and joyous tone, while the sound design ensures Lydia’s story is clearly told. The score adds an extra emotional layer without overwhelming the scenes, keeping the focus on the heartfelt moments.
Measure of Creation is a beautiful reflection on the simple joys of life seen through the eyes of a child. With its stunning visuals, heartwarming narrative, and emotional depth, the film left me feeling both nostalgic and uplifted. I think audiences will easily connect with its charm and authenticity, making it a film that resonates long after the credits roll.
