The movie opens in crisp black and white with a man waking up in an open field. He smokes a cigarette as a mysterious woman wearing a borderline all black goth aesthetic shows up and offers to trade her life for his. He is dead. An immortal and cursed Morana (Alice Kremelberg) welcomes Hopper (Cody Kostro) to the afterlife as grungy rock chords play and anamorphic shots shape the field into an unfamiliar place. She is an immortal being made tired by both the years and by carrying a mysterious Cain-like curse. This is the moody underworld The Wanderer drops into.
Director Michael Lavine is best known as a photographer, especially as a music and portrait photographer. His most famous photos come from the premonitory death allusions in a photoshoot for The Notorious B.I.G.’s Life After Death, released days after Biggie’s murder. He knows his way behind a camera, and no capable viewer of The Wanderer can doubt that in seriousness. The strong, deep blacks in the cinematography add gravitas to the 10-minute short, and the abundant anamorphic close-ups and medium close-ups define the uncomfortable world. Everything looks a little bit off kilter. Kremelberg and Kostro both look impeccable – good enough for a wedding day – and that makes Hopper’s day of death feel like the special day that it is. Her lavish dress clashes beautifully with the unkept field.
Hopper describes Morana as “Death in a dress.” She certainly has a witchiness to her that whispers Grim Reaper, and her name isn’t far away either. The etymology of Morana pulls from the Latin root of “mort”, meaning “death”. She wears a necklace with a small pendant of what appears to be a skull on it. Morana wants nothing more than to let go of this world, a theme that gets uncomfortably and dangerously close to the emo and goth scene’s tumultuous and advocative relationship with mental health and mental health awareness.
In the television show Supernatural, most episodes begin with a mini-scene of supernatural shenanigans, usually bloody and resembling a crime scene, that sets the stage for the mystery Sam and Dean need to solve. The Wanderer resembles one of these brief introductions, and this is positive criticism. It hooks the same way these scenes are meant to, while also setting up the rules for the universe and defining the spooky by showing and not telling. It also leaves one wanting more of the world.
And, like these prologues, it’s difficult to sketch out psychological character depth in such a short time on screen and that’s the biggest limitation Lavine runs into. The decisions characters make don’t balance the kind of psychological depth the themes implore, nor do they carry forward the dramatic gravitas that the cinematography begs. It’s a black-and-white world. As the credits roll, we know why Hopper makes his decision, but we don’t feel that why. The anxieties and values that inform his decision keep their distance.
The Wanderer premiered at the Sydney Film Festival.
