There’s something quite hypnotic about ‘The Clock Painter’ – like stepping into a photograph where time stands still and every detail is impossibly precise. Dylan Levine directs with a subtle confidence, crafting a drama that flirts with mystery, mood, and the slow-burn unraveling of a young woman.

Anna Maria Blackwood is exquisite as Clara – a soft-spoken girl drifting through life in low-resolution. She works a part-time job that barely holds her attention, cares for a disabled father with dutiful silence, and meets encouragement with disbelief. Even when a stranger, Elspeth (played by Corinne McLoughlin), insists she could do better –  work in a watch factory – Clara recoils with self doubt.

Inside the watch factory, time becomes elastic. Clara is tasked with delicately painting tiny watch faces. But, halfway through, the film slides into something stranger – a tonal shift that’s beautifully unnerving. There’s something in the paint. Something not right. Not quite supernatural, but definitely off. Like a dream trying to warn you.

Stefan Nachmann’s cinematography is skilled in mood and framing. The colour grading drips with antique elegance – you’d swear this story was dredged from a forgotten era, though it exists just outside of time.

Shannon Jilek’s writing is equally precise, weaving a character study that’s deceptively simple on the surface but layered with subtle melancholy, quiet yearning, and thematic depth. Together, Levine and Jilek craft a world that feels both eerily contained and vast with implication.

‘The Clock Painter’ hums with the potential of a larger narrative, a bigger world, and a deeper mystery. Boldly crafted, quietly surreal, and absolutely worth every ticking second.