Director: Naomi Pacifique
Writer: Naomi Pacifique
Cast: Juliet Darremont, Gaël Kamilindi, Tom de Ronde
Running time: 25mins
North America and Europe, the traditional homes of free market capitalism, have undergone a steady abolition of communal space in the last century. The belief that unfettered individualism is the only route to economic prosperity has been used to justify this obliteration of the collective. While this has run against our nature as a social animal, we have been promised that we could fill the void left by those relationships with things.
Consumerism has seen the purchase of products elevated beyond a survival trait, to social currency; buying something now serves to define our personality, and reinforce relationships or familial ties. In the last decade, the advent of ‘smart’ technology has put this on steroids, and commodified the relationships themselves. Amid the ceaseless churn of an instant society, where technology provides a never-ending conveyor belt of new options and opportunities, many people live their lives as perpetual window-shoppers. Seeking to blot out the nagging reality that they are unfulfilled in their lives, they look to fill their time with distractions – not just in the way of disposable content, but disposable people.
This is not to suggest that non-monogamy, or its many flavours, are the sole creation of late capitalism. Having more than one partner, or having needs met by more than one person, are concepts which have followed our species throughout its entire history. But perhaps more than ever before, I would argue that there are social and economic forces which push people toward it, who would not be otherwise inclined, as they chase that same consumerist delusion of finding that product or service that makes them feel complete in themselves.
Naomi Pacifique’s short film Looking she said I forget is an examination of this alienated and fruitless search – not so much examining non-monogamous relationships, as the nature of desire itself. Protagonist Lou finds herself lost in the supermarket, with the frailties of her relationship suddenly exposed by a move to Amsterdam. As the story progresses, Lou begins to think more closely about whether the things she thought she wanted were truly her idea, and whether they are really helping her in the way she was expecting.
Lou (Juliet Darremont) has moved to the Dutch capital ahead of her non-monogamous partner Joel (Gaël Kamilindi). Alone in an empty apartment, surrounded by their unpacked belongings, she attempts to distract herself from her solitude by tuning out the silence with the continuous blaring of music and podcasts on her phone – even in the shower, where we are most at the whim of our wandering minds. When she moves beyond those walls, she finds herself essentially scrolling through a living newsfeed – gazing into the windows of strangers’ apartments, or staring from a distance at people talking, or engaging in various public displays of affection.
It is a space many of us will be familiar with – especially in the midst of a major move – as reflexively, we try to blot out the emptiness we feel with more stuff. But the mobile phone is both the great facilitator of this, and the source of its ultimate betrayal. We can cloud our immediate vision and our peripheries with constant noise, endless content instantly sourced from a bottomless pit of slop. But at a moment’s notice this illusion shatters, with a simple phone call, freezing every application, and reminding us of every awkward and unfulfilling situation in our lives. In this case, a call from Joel subjects Lou to a rude awakening.
Reminding her that the non-monogamous explorations were Lou’s idea, Joel informs her that his end of that is becoming “intense” back home. This prompts Lou to push ahead with her own explorations – though not for the reasons she initially expected. Having believed she simply wanted the freedom to pursue whatever impulses came her way, she finds that now she is driven by an urge to both hurt Joel in retaliation, and, having observed so many other people around her, a desire to be seen.
But the act of realisation only goes so far. Having framed how one form of visual content might flood our senses and help us avoid our inner insecurities, it is here that Pacifique points to the liberatory space, akin to the cinematic realm, where there is room to unpack the responses provoked by the things we see and hear – and relate them to the tensions of our own lives.
With doubts forming in her head, Lou observes two men bickering in a lightbulb store. The frustrated employee (a welcome cameo from comedian Derek Scott Mitchell) is seeking to cater to a customer who seems intent on having him demonstrate the colour and warmth of every bulb in the shop. Watching on, Lou maybe recognises some of herself in the scenario, and the strange, abstract pursuit of self-realisation through consumption. And observing her observation, we may also find some of ourselves in the scenario, which this film provides a venue for our conscious to explore itself.
While much of Xenia Patricia’s cinematography belongs to the realist school, its framing flags up its unrealism. For all of the ways a believable world is constructed, the hazy 16mm film presents a warm reminder that we are in a fantasy space, where we can challenge and challenge our own behaviours, and desires. Are the things we think we want actually what we want? Did they come from us? What deficiencies do they relate to, and do they really help to combat them?
The script from Pacifique also furthers this balance, pairing authentic dialogue with moments of unapologetically philosophical text – on the one hand bidding us to believe in everything, but also to never forget we are engaged in a fantasy, and tasking us with figuring out what it means to us. But ultimately, this idea would live or die by the strength of its actors. Fortunately, the cast’s tender and emotionally intelligent performances (especially in the case of Darremont as Lou) do not display victims or aggressors, heroes or villains. Everyone is locked into a struggle to determine what they really want, to decipher what their desires are, and in doing so they are prone to hurt and be hurt. This means that whatever lessons they take from all of this, and how they live going forward, are for us to decipher following a sweet, if ambiguous, conclusion.
One of the final submissions to Indy Film Library for our 2025 season is also one of the most striking. Naomi Pacifique has shown impeccable judgement, balancing direct storytelling with the creation of abstract moments, providing us space to enjoy the story, and use it as fuel to think about life beyond the black bars framing the action.
It will put an excellent cap on our festival showcase at Filmhuis Cavia, on April 19th.