From Omeleto.
A man makes a call.
IT’S OK, JOHNNY is used with permission from Deniz Akyurek. Learn more at https://denizakyurek.com.
Johnny is caught in emotional limbo as he sits in his father’s home, surrounded by belongings that evoke painful memories. Inspired by nostalgia, he makes a phone call on the landline to someone from his youth that he once persecuted.
He talks openly and sincerely, his voice full of regret, nostalgia and ache, as he chats to his past acquaintance about the things he wishes he had done differently. He seeks some kind of understanding or reconciliation, but what he gets is something beyond his wildest imaginings.
Directed and written by Deniz Akyurek, this compact but masterful short comedy strikes a balance between sharpness and earnestness, meditating on the distance between our youthful mistakes and our more mature understanding in adulthood. But the past is not just a memory: it shapes us and makes us, often in unpredictable ways.
Shot with minimalist restraint and powered by a single performance from actor Anthony Misiano, the film strips storytelling down to its barest elements: one man, one phone call, and one emotional reckoning. Johnny, as we meet him, is lingering in his father’s home. Its set-up is confidently simple, with Johnny on the phone talking to the person he tormented in eighth grade. But the film achieves a richness and dynamism, thanks to its muted but dynamic visuals, tight editing and especially its perfectly pitched writing.
What emerges is less a narrative than a confession, as well as a jagged, unresolved attempt at connection. Misiano’s performance is excellent, layered with notes of regret, guilt, rueful nostalgia and his own existential dilemmas. We can hear and feel the unpredictability and precariousness of his life, and perhaps a slight bewilderment and bemusement at how his path didn’t quite turn out the way he wished. There are glimmers of self-reflection, though a hint of the callowness that made him bully another student in the first place creeps in now and then. What emerges is a surprisingly complex portrait of someone who regrets what he did, but also misses his carefree, wild past and a rogue-like version of himself that could act out without immediate consequence.
Throughout Johnny’s confession, we hear very little from the other line. But when Johnny’s former victim finally speaks up, the film takes off in another direction, one that is surprising, unexpected and very, very funny. The camera inches forward as Johnny takes in the response, slowly tightening around his face, like his history closing in on him. As it turns out, you can’t quite escape the past in IT’S OK, JOHNNY, because your actions don’t just live on with you, but with others, who carry that past as well. And what they do with that — well, it’s as unpredictable as life itself, and just as richly ironic.
