The Vacuum Salesman

Warning – This review may contain spoilers.

When I watched The Vacuum Salesman, I immediately felt a sense of unease and tension building from the first scene. The film, directed by Ty Pierson, introduces us to a vacuum salesman named Cody, played brilliantly by John Salandria. Cody attempts to sell a vacuum cleaner to Logan, a high school acquaintance (played by Mark Valeriano), and what starts as an awkward sales pitch quickly spirals into a tense and emotionally charged encounter. As we watch Cody unravel, it becomes clear that the missing vacuum part isn’t the real issue; instead, it’s a symbol of something much deeper that’s broken in his life.

One thing that struck me about the film was how effectively the technical elements supported the story. The cinematography is deliberate, with framing and color choices that highlight Cody’s mental state. The shots with the rearview mirror and the potted yellow flowers are particularly striking, using soft hues of yellow and blurring to symbolize the fragility of Cody’s grasp on reality. These moments, combined with subtle lighting and a well-paced score, set a mood that kept me on edge the entire time. The sound design, especially, plays a crucial role in underscoring Cody’s emotional breakdown—there’s an intensity that builds quietly in the background and explodes in key moments.

What I found fascinating is how the film plays on the idea of old grudges, even though Logan doesn’t seem to remember Cody or any prior grievances. The lack of explanation about their past creates this palpable tension that leaves a lot to the viewer’s imagination. I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened between these two characters in high school, but at the same time, I appreciated that the film didn’t spoon-feed that information. Instead, it allows Cody’s emotional state and erratic behavior to tell the story. The presence of Logan’s child serves as a turning point, stopping Cody from whatever misguided form of revenge he may have been contemplating and grounding him in the reality of what truly matters.

The film does a great job of conveying universal themes like failure, desperation, and comparison. Logan, with his perfect family life (symbolized by the neat little pot of flowers), serves as a stark contrast to Cody’s chaotic life, reflected in the broken vacuum. It’s a relatable feeling—comparing ourselves to others, especially those we knew from the past—and this relatability is why I think audiences will connect with this film. Even though Cody’s actions are extreme, his sense of inadequacy and frustration are emotions that many of us have likely felt at one point or another.

There were minor technical flaws, such as a couple of strange camera angles and a few moments where the editing seemed off, but they didn’t detract too much from my overall experience. In fact, they added a raw, almost unpolished feel to the film, which worked well with the chaotic headspace Cody is in. The performances from Salandria and Valeriano were fantastic, with both actors embodying their characters fully and bringing a sense of authenticity to their interactions. Salandria, in particular, really sold the desperation of a man who feels like his life has spiraled out of control.

By the end of The Vacuum Salesman, I was left thinking about the weight of the past and how unresolved emotions can bubble to the surface in unexpected ways. Pierson crafted a story that is both entertaining and thought-provoking, mixing dark comedy with drama and tension in a way that keeps you engaged. It’s the kind of film that may be short in length but leaves a lasting impression.

Ultimately, The Vacuum Salesman is a tightly crafted narrative that explores themes of regret, failure, and the haunting effects of comparison. While the story is straightforward, its deeper emotional layers make it a film that resonates beyond its surface. I believe audiences will enjoy this film not only for its technical prowess but also for its relatable and human story.