eminiscing about her son growing up, visualized through cheery photographs, a mother stares off into space; her mind wanders as she awaits her Russian sister for a light borscht dinner (the sets, props, and ethnic backgrounds, including nods to prior aristocratic generations, may be important to the filmmakers, but they have minimal evident impact on the premise). Her son, Owen (Elliott Thomas West), is suffering up in his room, shivering, clawing at his arm, and vomiting into a trash can; clearly, he’s going through some sort of withdrawal (heroin, as it turns out). “You don’t fix a broken leg with a Band-Aid!”

The mother, Dorie (Pascale Roger-McKeever), and her sister Marinka (Emilie Talbot), don’t see eye-to-eye on how to handle Owen’s situation, but they’re coming to terms with his traumatizing affliction. This short tale unfolds steadily, with plenty of focus on emotions rather than dialogue, as the siblings momentarily distract themselves from familial woes (with a bottle of wine), supplemented nicely by dreamlike music and stylized cinematography. But in its unhurried state, details come without much intensity; it’s melodramatic, however, chronicling various escapes from perceived unhealthy childhoods, with good intentions about providing a better life for children and bitter yet restrained estrangement frustrating reconciliation opportunities.

The performances are exceptional; for a short subject, the actors are perfectly cast (even West is fine, though he speaks not a single line of dialogue). Yet the material itself doesn’t work all that well in this format; before it has a chance to really dive into anything meaningful, the picture ends. It’s a brief, intermediary episode, skipping past much of a setup and disregarding a conclusion altogether. It may not wish to focus on a resolution, instead dwelling on a symbolic separation and disagreement that appear unsalvageable (a Matryoshka nesting doll that comes apart yet isn’t reconstructed surely has meaning; it’s also featured on the poster artwork), but as a result, it’s merely a moment for convincing emotionalization and little else (a fact that becomes more obvious with director Amanda Deering Jones’ admittance that this is a proof-of-concept piece for a hopeful feature-length film). It’s well-shot and performed, but altogether transitory.

– Mike Massie