Jérémy Comte’s directorial feature debut, following his Academy Award–winning short film, is a heartfelt drama that explores the darker edges of the internet and the quiet cruelty of the world, approaching the subject with an intimacy that feels personal rather than sensational.
Comte co-writes the script with Will Niava, for whom this is also a first feature. Both filmmakers have primarily worked in short films up to this point, and that background is felt throughout the structure and rhythm of the story.
While I did like the film and found the central storyline compelling, there were several moments where I found myself questioning certain developments. Not because of plot holes or fundamental issues in the story’s framework, but because of a noticeable lack of depth in some of the characters and the backstory we are given.
There is a clear imbalance in development. We receive a strong and emotionally grounded introduction to Kojo. His childhood is carefully laid out, giving us a rich understanding of who he is and why he ultimately takes the path he does. Comte pays close attention to the details that shape him, grounding the film in something that feels authentic and lived in.
However, the same level of care is not extended to the other characters, many of whom are just as vital to the emotional weight of the story. At times, it feels as though we are told who they are rather than shown. Their struggles are explained, but not always fully experienced. This is where the film most noticeably reflects its short-film sensibilities — attempting to fit complex emotional arcs into a confined space.
The film runs just over an hour and a half and feels lean in its construction. Yet it could have benefitted from additional breathing room. Expanding closer to two hours would not have required unnecessary padding; rather, it would have allowed the secondary characters to feel as fully realized as Kojo. The foundation is there — the bones of something deeper — but the development feels slightly condensed.
Comte’s direction is ultimately what shapes the film into what it becomes. While the script serves as the backbone, direction is what determines how much emotional resonance the story carries. He demonstrates a strong instinct for character framing, particularly in the early sections of the film. The opening passages, especially those centered on Kojo’s childhood, are handled with patience and care, giving the film a grounded emotional base.
The pacing, however, becomes less steady once the secondary protagonist is introduced. The narrative momentum wavers, and the shift in focus slightly disrupts the balance that was so carefully built in the beginning. We are given enough information to understand these characters, but not enough to feel fully immersed in their perspective.
Visually, the cinematography adopts a loose, almost observational style. There is a naturalism to the camera work that keeps the film grounded, but it also creates a certain emotional distance in moments that could have been heightened further. While the shots are competently composed and the lighting is functional, there are stretches where the visual language does not deepen the emotional impact in the way it could have.
That said, there are standout moments. In particular, a third-act chase sequence makes strong use of handheld camerawork. The controlled shakiness heightens tension and pulls the viewer directly into the urgency of the moment. It’s in scenes like this where the film feels most alive visually.
Performance-wise, there is a noticeable contrast in consistency. Daniel Atsu Hukporti Adjorble delivers a phenomenal and grounded portrayal of Kojo. His performance is restrained yet emotionally precise, anchoring the film even when other elements feel uneven. Some of the supporting performances, however, occasionally feel less calibrated, at times veering into overstatement.
Despite its mild pacing issues and underdeveloped secondary characters, the film ultimately works. Comte succeeds in telling a story that connects on an emotional level. The characters we do spend time with feel relatable, and the central arc resonates.
By the time the credits rolled, I found myself wanting more — not because the film failed, but because it hints at a depth it only partially explores. The core ideas and emotional foundation are strong. With more room to breathe and further character exploration, the impact could have been even greater.
For a feature debut, this is a confident and promising step. Comte demonstrates clear skill and instinct behind the camera. I would be interested to see him give himself greater narrative space in future projects, allowing his characters and themes to unfold with even more depth and patience.