Wrong

Wrong

If I ever decide to go through these films I’m writing about and compile a list of the ones with the most peculiar subject matter, the nine minute British short film Wrong would surely be near the top.

A middle-aged to older man is sitting alone in his middle class or above apartment, looking like his aloneness is neither new nor temporary nor pleasing to him.

He purchases an item, and returns with it, taking it with him into his bedroom.

It is a blow-up sex doll. He inflates it, removes his clothes, and proceeds to have sex with it. You don’t infer that that’s what he’s doing; it’s shown in full, except that it’s strategically shot so you don’t see his penis or the actual penetration. But other than that, it’s way more explicit and thorough than you’d expect.

Any of us who have any 13 year old boy in us at all will naturally laugh at this scene. But at the same time it’s uncomfortable to watch, unmistakably disturbing and sad—a feeling that is augmented when he finishes his business and you hear him sobbing.

His subsequent behavior is quite interesting. It conveys—but not in the manner one might expect—that he realizes his little experiment to ease his loneliness has failed.

He doesn’t, for instance, spontaneously throw the item away in disgust at himself and it. Instead it’s like he wants to symbolically turn back the clock to before the item ever entered his life, so as not just to react against the offending event, but to erase it from history entirely.

And at the close of the film, he’s in the exact same posture as at the beginning. Still alone, still unhappy, with one fewer course of action open as a way to potentially alleviate that.

Score this one high for novelty, and decent for its ability to make one think and feel.

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