WATCH THE TRAILER HERE
First, the Recap:
To where do we take flight when finding that our inner solace has been upended, frayed, scattered? For while we’re too often beleaguered by the pleas that guide us to remain in the reality we’re trying to find shelter from, it stands to reason that at least every once in while, a break from said actuality might be the key. Then, it becomes whether those closest to us will support our choice, especially when an unanticipated source of healing arrives. For a young woman named Brynn (Martha Brown), life is currently a shadow of dejection and disquiet within. Absconding with her boyfriend Laika (Odinaka Malachi Ezeokoli) to a family cabin that is far less than it used to be, Brynn embarks on an esoteric personal journey thanks to an old friend, the enigmatic Rue (Nate Wise), who points her back to a life forgotten, then slowly remembered, that will ideally become her salvation. But, what might it cost for her bourgeoning inner freedom?
Next, my Mind:
It’s a beautifully executed, intelligently written, engagingly visual, wholly grounded and relatable, slow-burn character drama that made its showing at the 2021 Art of Brooklyn Film Festival courtesy of writer/director/producer Peter Collins Campbell, producer/cinematographer Josh Kundert-Gibbs, and executive producer Eugene Sun Park, providing a narrative and thematic road that was so wonderfully simple yet likewise immersed in what emerged as an existential journey of the soul. It’s one of those ongoing testaments for this critic of exactly WHY the indie film industry and the talents therein truly deserve notice and a larger platform to showcase their work as, just being perfectly transparent (and NOT remotely “mean” or disparaging here, folks), the mainstream moviegoing audience really needs an opportunity to expand beyond the realms of strictly visual bombast and entertainment-only mentality and imbibe at least some efforts, such as this one, that so deftly delve into the human condition in an accessible way AND provide diversion.
As I’ve mentioned recently in another review post from AoBFF 2021, we’re living in a time when issues involved with mental health are reaching a newly tangible level of potency and relevancy, with so many suffering from the various forms it takes. The need to more effectively address these concerns and see results has never been greater, and so in this film that sees a young woman on the edge of utter despondency experiencing an adventure of healing both realistic and fantastical make this one of those necessary films I feel people need to see and ponder. The story does a solidly feasible job at presenting both that believability and then combining it with distinctive fantasy elements to not only maintain the viewer’s attention, but use it all as a grander exposé on the state of Brynn’s mental storms, how she’s desperate to cope with them, and find the emancipation she so wholeheartedly needs, even at the potential cost of the one relationship that means the most leading up to the events depicted.
Topical streams flow abundantly here, and cover a wide-ranging yet specifically focused commonality that bring into play concepts of isolation (both mental and physical), self-identity, inner conflicts, rediscovery, repression of memory, sudden recollection, where and how we try to run from harder instances rather than face them, the desire to move forward, to find what we used to be when feeling the world hurts more than supports us, transformation, transition, reclaiming things lost, how we behave effecting what we say, letting go, and ultimately grasping our true value/worth and purpose, all get due attention throughout Brynn’s odyssey. And this is the precise style and approach that I love about narratives like this, because it makes you sit and assess what’s being witnessed in a manner that becomes so magnificently accessible and allows that connection with the character(s) to occur, as I assuredly got completely swept up in the dynamic between Brynn and Rue, always waiting in anticipation for more reveals as to his origin, significance, and relation to her. Straight up, I loved the visual approach this film took with the fantasy world we see, as it just sucks you into wanting to know more about this unreality Rue inhabits and what it means for Brynn.
Brown is a beautiful, fully grounded, and arresting force from start to finish in her role here as Brynn, a woman who’s come to the end of herself, a mental and emotional breaking point that she knows needs to be mitigated. Deeming that the answers won’t be found in the din of the city in which she resides, she opts to travel to her family’s woodlands-based cabin to seek the full serenity she yearns after. Joined by her boyfriend, the obstacles in several forms rise up, throwing initial points of doubt in her mind about finding peace. But when a mysterious visitor enters the picture, it causes both rifts and bridges to be formed that end up leading Brynn to wonders unknown, reminiscing, revelation, and newfound hope through the accompanying pain and release that could finally lead her inward torment to be alleviated. It’s a utter dichotomy of emotional upheaval being experienced, and there’s such stirring potency in Brown’s ability to navigate the character through this with poise, grace, and total vulnerability but with fortitude as well.
Wise has one incredible job on his plate to enact a character with, in effect, no face paired with an undeniably perplexing form and manner, but he does so with what I felt were truly rewarding results thanks to his portrayal of Rue, a figure both eerie and innocent, who becomes a key facet to Brynn’s inward reawakening. Soft-spoken, masked, and covered head to toe in an overcoat, hood, and scarf, Rue’s presence brings out a child-like charm while also an almost ghostly aura that Brynn is inexorably drawn to. Showing her a realm of magic and escape that slowly begins to build the road to emotional redemption for her, Rue’s attraction to Brynn is palpable, founded on her still-repressed childhood, but entirely irreproachable, and it lends an air to him that, funny enough, also makes all his often ambiguous statements that much more meaningful. Throughout the effort, Wise’s cool, calm, unassuming demeanor just creates an atmosphere that draws you further and further into the arena of existence Rue embodies, making you want more of it.
Ezeokoli has an almost dubious honor of being both a support and punching bag for Brynn’s emotional waves through his role as Laika, her current boyfriend and someone whom we can tell DOES love and cherish her, but also starts having reservations about as her manias begin to surface in more blatant ways than he can accept or go along with. Trying his level best to BE the man she actually needs in this volatile time, his attitude towards Rue and how Brynn’s attentions start gravitating towards Rue instead of him, even in spite of his very forward consternation and expressed discontent. It’s a quietly intense performance Ezeokoli delivers, and it’s highly apropos for the nature of Laika’s character and the situations he’s faced with. So, in total, “DimLand” proficiently and artfully places us in the sphere of mental instability but via a fashion that engenders deep empathy for the circumstances depicted and a craving to see it rectified while wrapping it in a mold of both actuality and imagination meant to capture us on all levels and glean what we might from the lessons its narrative can very effectively teach us.
As always, this is all for your consideration and comment. Until next time, thank you for reading!
