Ramzi Abed’s First Person Savior unfolds as if Lars von Trier had directed Sling Blade in a meditation about mediocrity, loneliness, and what it is to live a life repressed by others that live rent-free in your head. John Karyus is Abe Loman, who lives quietly, observes his routines, and keeps pace with the day-to-day grind. When not at work, he sits silent and alone in a dying garden, staring into space, lost deep in thought.
Every day, Abe walks till he catches a bus to wind up at a laboriously pointless job at which he is the only one who seems to work, vicariously and meticulously sweeping clear a rooftop parking lot. His co-workers muse on the pathetic nature of Abe’s existence as they mock him at a distance whilst he toils. When his day is done, he retreats to his dark den with junk food and first-person shooters, losing himself through the midnight hour in battles he can both win and control.
That is, until the dawn comes again. Abe dresses. He walks. He passes the same person each day and offers greetings with no reply. He arrives at work. He’s a joke to them. He sweeps the day away. He returns home. Repeat. The monotony of his existence is rendered truly bleak as we realize Abe’s mother (Dawn Wirth) is but a pesky poltergeist who comes merely to criticize his life’s choices: the unhealthy food, the violent video games. Finally, Abe snaps. He sees visions of Mary (Erica Libonati), a Madonna-like presence that coddles and comforts him. She urges Abe to action until he is at last content to defy all expectations society has of him.
“…urges Abe to action until he is at last content to defy all expectations society has of him.”
Abe goes out to find a real weapon. Hoping that the power he feels in the games he plays can be manifested in the real world. Through a fellow commuter he passes on the way to work, Abe is able to buy a pistol from a mysterious character named Tragic (James Duval). Now, all that is left to push back on life the way it pushed him around all his life. He dresses differently, showing up to work late, taking time to wander where he pleases. All of it brewing to a culmination which sees Abe confront the darkness in his soul as he fights to maintain his grip on reality.
First Person Savior uses monotony and real-time pacing to great effect. Is this a sad, terrifying portrait of a life forgotten by the world around it? The battle against the weight of feeling insignificant and worthless, and the false hope provided by fantasizing in worlds entertaining though insubstantial.
First Person Savior could be viewed as a cautionary tale about the dangers of being all-consumed by habits that strip away our humanity a shred at a time. We each may indeed be a universe unto ourselves. But only a genuine connection enriches our lives. This is the quietly shocking depiction of how we erode when all we rely on is cold, convenient, and artificial.
"…quietly shocking..."
