Writer-director Daniel Talbott’s My Age Now opens on a restless Sunday, where a young man is left haunted by the ghost of a voice message he can’t take back. His lover has broken up with him, up and left without any opportunity for closure. The filmmaker says that this short unfolds as an experimental memory piece: a shared session of lovemaking; a memory so vivid it feels real. In the shower, the man hurls toothpaste at the mirror in frustration; in the kitchen, doing dishes triggers unwelcome flashes of intimacy. He scrubs, he stares at his phone, he presses play on the message, only to hear what he dreads most. The film is a raw portrait of love and erasure in a queer relationship, where tenderness and grief collide.
My Age Now is essentially a video essay from the filmmaker. I should warn you up front, it’s an intense essay about falling in love, breaking up, and working through feelings of deep loss. I should also warn that there is nudity and the sex can be described as explicit.
“…a young man is left haunted by the ghost of a voice message he can’t take back.”
That said, what Talbott does so right is masterfully tap into the emotions of losing the one you love, knowing it was you. In fact, the pain level is at an eleven. Talbott plays this game in our protagonist’s mind, shifting from his most passionate moments to hearing the “Dear John” voice message, leaving him in debilitating moments that reduce him to a puddled mess.
The best short films should make you feel something from start to finish. My Age Now achieves this by distilling heartbreak, intimacy, and regret into a series of striking, impressionistic moments. Here, we’re left devastated long after the credits roll.
"…what Talbott does so right is masterfully tap into the emotions of losing the one you love..."
