In the dim glow of 1987 Baltimore, OBEX unfolds like a surreal fable, its stark black-and-white imagery conjuring an era defined by analog pulses and tactile imperfections. The film introduces us to an isolated individual whose life, steeped in solitude and routine, becomes the stage for an extraordinary upheaval. Here, outdated screens and relics such as VHS tapes and dot matrix printers serve not only as nostalgic artifacts but as quiet sentinels of a bygone time.
At the heart of this narrative stands a computer programmer whose reserved existence shatters when his beloved canine companion, Sandy, mysteriously disappears after an invitation to participate in an interactive video game. The unfolding narrative summons a mood that intermingles a somber, almost dark humor with fleeting, dreamlike sequences that skirt the edge of the surreal.
One senses in each frame an introspection that questions the nature of connection amid sterile digital realms. A subtle sadness lingers, hinting at the fragility of human bonds and the weight of existential solitude. In this unfolding tableau, the promise of an emotional odyssey is suggested through whimsical yet profound images—a call to reconsider the value found in life’s most delicate, unadorned moments.
Fractured Paths in a Digital Labyrinth
In the industrial gray of Baltimore, we find Conor Marsh—a solitary figure absorbed in daily rituals powered by aged machinery. His routine, marked by the quiet hum of outdated screens and the unmistakable static of vintage tapes, undergoes an abrupt rupture when a puzzling computer game presents a challenge to shed his protective exterior. This challenge coincides with the sudden disappearance of his devoted companion, Sandy, a moment that echoes through the silent corners of his measured existence.
The storyline unfolds with a deliberate unfolding of events, as the familiar gives way to a hesitant exploration of the surreal. Conor, previously confined to an unvarying life, finds himself caught in a shift of perceptions when digital prompts awaken a dormant longing.
Key episodes reveal his gradual crossing of a fragile threshold—from a self-imposed isolation to an intermittent flirtation with a world filled with symbolic dream fragments. These moments, both startling and muted, contrast sharply with his earlier life of predictable repetition, as his reality fractures and reforms under mysterious, almost imperceptible, forces.
The film employs a non-linear structure, interweaving scattered recollections and uncanny visual motifs that invite personal interpretation of the signs embedded within his transformation. Each pivotal instance carries the weight of unspoken existential inquiry, casting uncertainty over the purpose of a life lived in quiet seclusion. In this collision of measured routine and sudden, charged interludes, the narrative poses questions about the cost of remaining inside one’s own carefully constructed echo chamber.
Fragmented Souls in a Digital Echo
Conor Marsh appears as a solitary programmer cloaked in routine, his quiet existence concealing stormy undercurrents of inner strife and unspoken yearning. A figure marked by isolation, his life is steeped in digital monotony until fate forces him to confront hidden shadows. One witnesses him shedding layers of withdrawal as he stumbles into a realm demanding courage, the quiet despair of his solitude giving way to a reluctant spark of resolve amid the fragments of his once-secure inner world.
Mary surfaces as a gentle presence, a brief flicker of warmth—a portal through which human touch pierces the cold glow of screens and circuits. In contrast, the figure of Victor, with his television-shaped visage, acts as a spectral relic of bygone days, embodying the clash of familiar memories with the unsettling pulse of modern estrangement. His presence conjures questions of identity and the inexorable pull of the past.
Albert Birney, occupying the dual role of creator and lead, infuses his character with an earnest expression that borders on fragile sincerity. His portrayal transforms a simple tech enthusiast into a symbol of the internal conflict shared by many living in a realm defined by illuminated barriers.
In this cinematic setting, technology itself becomes a double-edged instrument—a means of forging a connection that, paradoxically, deepens solitude. The interactions among these characters expose a quiet meditation on the loneliness pervading an age of relentless digital communication, offering a reflective glimpse into the struggles that haunt the modern spirit.
Timeless Shadows on the Screen
A strict black-and-white palette casts the film in a chiaroscuro of forgotten eras, its imagery a canvas of stark contrasts that evoke the raw textures of old technology. The careful play of light and shadow renders each frame with an almost ritualistic quality, as if every scene were a carefully inscribed note on a long-lost letter. The measured use of this monochrome approach summons a sense of ritual remembrance, steeping the visual narrative in feelings of both unease and wistful reminiscence.
Practical effects resonate with a tactile honesty rarely encountered today. Printed images rendered in dot matrix precision and sequences that reveal the inherent grain of pixelated video art contribute a palpable weight. The deliberate choice to employ these lo-fi techniques fashions an experience where the physicality of each image reinforces a connection to an age when technology exuded character in its imperfections. These moments invite the eye to linger on textures, capturing fleeting hints of a past that thrums quietly beneath each visual beat.
The set design articulates a meticulously reconstructed 1987 Baltimore, where every costume and prop speaks with an authenticity that feels both deliberate and spontaneous. Each element is curated with care, reanimating relics of an era defined by tactile engagement and a worn, enduring charm. The environment itself becomes a silent storyteller, its vintage objects and carefully arranged backdrops inviting the viewer into a world that oscillates between familiarity and mystique.
Albert Birney’s directorial choices underscore a reverence for imperfections, where editing and framing speak in visual fragments that together evoke a reflective meditation on our sensory experiences. Recurring images—screens, aged devices, and dreamlike backdrops—interlace with the narrative, setting a stage where isolation is palpably felt and memories of analog intimacy stir quietly in every shadow.
Sonic Reverberations of Solitude
A synthesizer-led score permeates the film, echoing the muted pulse of a bygone era while evoking a timeless mood that skirts both desolation and unexpected wonder. The electronic soundscapes articulate a spectrum of emotions—from the numb cadence of isolation to the stirring hints of an otherworldly realm. Each note appears as a deliberate gesture, sketching a sound portrait that mirrors the shifts in the narrative.
Layered audio elements infuse the background with a living texture: the persistent hum of outdated machinery, the measured clatter of a keyboard, and the haunting buzz of cicadas render the soundscape palpably organic. Specific moments catch the ear—a careful transition as the cinematic frame slips from the barren reality into the enigmatic video game domain, where the sonic landscape transforms and holds an almost ritual quality. These auditory cues instigate an internal dialogue, inviting reflections on the dissonance between human connection and technological mediation.
The interplay between acoustics and visuals captures the viewer in a constant state of uneasy attentiveness. Audio markers interject at key narrative junctures, gently spotlighting shifts in emotional tone and signaling the emergence of inner conflicts. There is a quiet questioning embedded in the deliberate swell of sound—a reminder of the frailty of the human condition when sequestered by digital screens and synthetic rhythms.
The score, in its expansive minimalism, enriches the film’s somber outlook and accentuates the quiet despair lurking beneath moments of absurdity. Its measured cadence and echoing refrains forge an undercurrent of reflective melancholy, articulating a longing for authenticity amidst a cacophony of impersonal frequencies.
Phantom Reflections and Shattered Mirrors
Conor’s isolated existence serves as a mirror for the human condition—a solitary life punctuated by a relentless yearning for connection amid a sea of digital illusions. His world, tinted by stark imagery and softened by the ritualistic hum of analog machines, becomes a stage for meditations on loneliness and the search for authenticity. The film pits the sterile embrace of immersive digital escapes against a deep-seated impulse to reclaim tangible, human moments that defy mechanized precision.
Faded relics of pre-digital technology—from the humble Mac computer to the dot matrix printer—operate as symbols of creative confinement. These devices, with their clumsy, deliberate outputs, cast a reflective glow on the blurred lines between art and mechanization. The proposition to “remove your skin” posed by the enigmatic video game suggests a force that encourages stripping away superficial layers, exposing raw inner truths and vulnerabilities that haunt the modern individual.
Victor, the television-headed companion, emerges as a living echo of lost intimacies and bygone connections. His unsettling image, a fusion of nostalgic media and modern fragmentation, casts a long shadow over Conor’s existence. Through Victor, the film comments on the shift in personal identity wrought by the omnipresence of screen-based reality—a reminder of the intangible bonds that are all too easily forgotten in an era of constant digital chatter.
Amid this interplay of symbols, the film crafts a commentary on the paradox inherent in our reliance on technology. While digital allure promises liberation from isolation, it often reinforces the cold barriers between hearts and minds. The analog elements, with their imperfect yet tangible charm, serve as relics of simplicity that recall a time when touch and texture mattered more than the ephemeral glow of a screen.
Layers of meaning float throughout the narrative, inviting multiple perspectives on modern alienation. The quest that unfolds is painted in hues of existential uncertainty; it questions whether the essence of our humanity can withstand the assault of mechanized detachment. In this reflective landscape, every symbol beckons the observer to reconsider the price of a life insulated by technology and to wonder at the fragility of real connection.
Fading Echoes of the Digital Abyss
Conor’s metamorphosis from solitary confinement into a confrontation with both inner doubts and external phantoms emanates as a stirring ode to the human spirit when clashing with mechanized existence. The film marries fantastical escapades with moments that stir introspection, casting aside sterile detachment in exchange for a glimmer of raw, primal yearning. A spectral interplay of images and sound guides the viewer through corridors of lost connection, where the pulse of outdated screens echoes amid the quiet roar of forgotten hopes.
The narrative vibrates with questions that unsettle the mind: does the lure of digital realms mask a deeper call for organic, resonant touch? The film’s visual flair and auditory landscape forge a setting where technology, in all its cold impersonality, stands as both muse and mirage—a place where memory and melancholy converge. The haunting strains of synthesized melodies and the weight of ambient noises stir contemplation on the nature of authenticity, challenging each spectator to see themselves in the reflective surface of a bygone era.
There is an effect that lingers, a subtle imprint of images and sound that invites inquiry into the balance between isolation and connection. This is a crafted reflection on modern solitude, where the viewer may pause, question, and perhaps rediscover a forgotten warmth amidst the digital void.
Full Credits
Director: Albert Birney
Writers: Albert Birney, Pete Ohs
Cast: Albert Birney, Callie Hernandez, Frank Mosley
Editors: Matthew Riggieri
Composer: Josh Dibb
The Review
OBEX
OBEX emerges as an evocative exploration of solitude amid a landscape of analog relics and digital intrigue. Its stark monochrome imagery and immersive soundscapes challenge our notions of connection, provoking quiet introspection. The film presents us with an enigmatic narrative that may leave some feeling unsettled, yet its meditations on human isolation and authenticity linger long after the credits roll.
PROS
- Striking visual style with nostalgic analog aesthetics
- Immersive and innovative sound design
- Deeply philosophical narrative exploring isolation and authenticity
- Rich use of symbolism and metaphor
- Bold, unconventional storytelling
CONS
- Pacing may feel uneven or disjointed
- Lower-budget effects might not suit all tastes
- Ambiguous character arcs can leave viewers uncertain
- Dense thematic elements can be challenging for some audiences
