Rich Chambers’ ‘Molina’ is a striking British sci-fi short that feels like a lost episode of Black Mirror. Anchored by solid performances from Elise Verney and Sean Tizzard, the film presents a sleek, emotionally-charged exploration of identity, memory, and human desire set in a not-so-distant future. The writing is sharp, and the concept is both original and hauntingly relevant, raising provocative questions about technology and its impact on the most intimate aspects of our lives.
The film opens in a quiet, moody bar – widescreen, atmospheric, and precise. The silence between Alan (Tizzard) and Rebecca (Verney) speaks volumes, and their strained interaction sets the stage for the emotional unraveling that follows. Flashbacks of happier times – a father and daughter, loving and carefree – contrast sharply with the present-day tension. It’s a clever narrative choice that allows Chambers to reveal their relationship in layers, slowly uncovering the truth: the bond they shared was never real. The characters’ disillusionment is felt deeply, and the writing excels in never over-explaining, leaving space for the audience to absorb the weight of the story.
At the heart of the film lies a brilliant concept – identity-switching technology that allows users to live out dreams through others. Chambers uses this idea not just as a backdrop for a futuristic tale, but as a vehicle to explore loss, guilt, and the human yearning for connection. The writing is thoughtful, and the pacing is deliberate, ensuring the sci-fi elements serve the emotional beats rather than overshadow them.
Verney delivers a solid performance, shifting between warmth and cold detachment with ease. Her dual portrayal of Rebecca is both gripping and relatable, capturing the inner conflict of a character torn between past and present. Tizzard, too, is exceptional, especially in his heartbreaking final moments where he lays bare the vulnerability of a man clinging to a dream that was never his to begin with.
Technically, ‘Molina’ is expertly crafted. Joel Caborn’s cinematography is crisp and beautiful, framing each shot with precision. The editing is clean, and the score quietly amplifies the film’s emotional resonance without overwhelming it. The world-building feels organic, grounding the high-concept premise in a lived-in reality. Every element works in harmony, enhancing the film’s quiet, poignant impact.
‘Molina stands’ as a triumph in short science fiction – a film that’s as emotionally affecting as it is thought-provoking. A worthy watch.
