From Omeleto.
A man meets another survivor.
BURROW is used with permission from Leaf Lieber. Learn more at https://leaflieber.com.
John is an ex-soldier who has hunkered down as human extinction loomed. He has not seen any signs of human life, but even as the world grows colder, he clings to the routine and discipline of the military, as well as the solace of religion, to stave off his growing fear and isolation.
But when he comes across another traveler named Arian, John is wary and awkward, but slowly comes to open up to Arian. But that connection opens up the floodgates to a greater need within John, one that seems to have no place in their harsh new world.
Directed and written by Leaf Lieber, this evocative short sci-fi drama is an exploration of isolation, identity, and the scars of emotional repression. Though there is a dystopian aspect to the film, the storytelling is less concerned with the specifics and more intrigued by the psychological aspects of being almost completely alone in the world. John, haunted by war and human extinction, is a shell of defense and solitude. When a traveler and fellow survivor of the world’s dark turn arrives on the scene, it catalyzes both an awakening and a reckoning. Will John bear his trauma in isolation or allow connection to reawaken buried aspects of his identity?
The visuals weave together gritty realism with a post-apocalyptic dystopian starkness. The film’s tone, underlined by atmospheric cinematography, emphasizes mood through nuanced lighting and composition, though an impressionistic narration of John’s journals gives us some access to his inner world. The camerawork — handheld, but with an eye for telling detail — also captures intimate textures of the man’s hollowed-out world, from the religious imagery he’s surrounded himself with to the weathered texture of his skin and clothes.
The tenor is both somber and sensuous, making for a potent confluence that develops when the man encounters the traveler. That meeting is wary and startling, generating energy, tension and momentum all at once. As they circle each other, sizing each other up and measuring up their similarities and differences, their moments of physical contact and proximity are disquieting and yet intriguing to the man.
As John, actor Christian Coulson — best known as the teenage Voldemort in the HARRY POTTER films — offers a transformational performance that is nothing like the iconic villain audiences know him as. Here, he is raw, hungry and hunted, but also achingly vulnerable, especially as Arian’s proximity opens up a deep need for connection and closeness. How John wrestles with these awakening needs forms a ferocious inner conflict that he tamps down — until it can no longer be denied.
Haunting, beautiful and emotionally resonant, BURROW delivers a tender meditation on connection, queer identity, and transformation. With subtle performances and immersive visuals, it also asks questions about how long buried parts of ourselves can stay buried — and whether or not it can win out against the human need for connection and belonging, however we find it. When all else is gone, we need each other, and the realization is heartbreaking and essential all at once.
