There is a certain distance in friendship – where intimacy fades into nostalgia and mutual curiosity – that inspires an openness between souls. It is a liminal state between empathy and apathy; it is also just one of several boundaries explored in “Jethica,” the dark comedy from multi-hyphenate filmmaker Pete Ohs. One-part ghost story, two-parts stalking drama, “Jethica” manages to walk a razor-thin line between competing tones to deliver something shockingly impactful.
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The film opens with a cigarette and a story. Years ago, Elena (Callie Hernandez) explains to a faceless lover, she lived on her grandmother’s ranch in New Mexico. You see, the California resident had accidentally run down a pedestrian while on her phone, and so she had spent that following year hiding away from the world. It was there that she reconnected with Jessica (Ashley Denise Robinson), a former high school friend who just happened to be passing through.
When the two meet for coffee, Jessica opens up. She is not taking a road trip; she is fleeing her stalker, an abusive man named Kevin (Will Madden). Kevin had followed Jessica between California and New Mexico, and with nowhere else to turn, Jessica finds herself finally able to relax in the company of her old-new friend. But when Kevin makes an unexpected appearance at Elena’s trailer, Elena is forced to share a few difficult truths about her grandmother’s land – and the secret burden it possesses.
When the time comes to write the definitive history of mumblegore – the offshoot of mumblecore that favors naturalistic indie horror – we may just need to save a seat for “Jethica.” Although the reveals may catch some by surprise, this is not a film of twists. Rather than establish the ghost story with the supernatural, Ohs focuses on the mental state of his two leads. In one early scene, Jessica parts with Elena, only to perform a lazy, looping circle back alongside her car. These simple moments create the stakes for the movie, and we come closer to understanding the film’s logline with each forced smile.
But with “Jethica,” Ohs has created a cinematic shark cage for a deep dive into a complex subject. There is genuine poignancy in watching Jessica navigate the violence of Kevin’s behavior, but the closer you bring the audience to her abuser, the more you run the risk of being exploitative (or worse). Establishing that Kevin is already dead – and can only serve to annoy, not harm – adds a layer of protection between the film and its audience. “Jethica” works as a dark comedy because Ohs and his writer-stars have taken steps to control how the material hits. And we can examine Kevin, up close and personal, without getting lost in the danger he presents.
Needless to say, this sort of film is entirely dependent on its performances. As Elena, Hernandez walks the finest line between comedy and tragedy. Hers is a gentle performance, but one the actor is clearly clued into; watch how contrasting emotions flicker across her face in a climactic final scene between secondary characters. Elena has done a terrible thing, but she also seems to have found a form of peace, and neither Hernandez nor “Jethica” itself seem in a hurry to judge her. Madden also shines as Kevin, albeit in a role designed to stand out. Watching his character wander the desert, babbling words of self-encouragement in his pursuit of Jessica, is a masterclass in audience discomfort.
And of all the hats Ohs wears – including screenwriter, director, producer, and editor – it is the role of cinematographer that suits him best. Open skies and sweeping landscapes dominate the frame in “Jethica,” imbuing the film with an ethereal sense of emptiness. The characters of this film exist in liminal states – between friend and stranger, safety and danger, life and death – and the vastness of New Mexico ensures that the film presents a visual language to match its storytelling. “Jethica” is often a beautiful film, but this beauty serves to underscore the isolation of its cast – the perfect marriage between scenery and spirit.
At a brisk 70 minutes, “Jethica” is not a film that overstays its welcome. It understands the boundaries of its premise and knows better than to linger in unwanted corners. But in finding humor, pathos, and beauty in such a complicated subject matter, Ohs and company deliver a sunbaked ghost story that should stand the test of time. And if nothing else, “Jethica” makes New Mexico look like a mighty fine place to die indeed. [B+]
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