THE STORY – Conor Marsh’s secluded life disrupted when he plays OBEX game. His dog Sandy disappears, blurring reality and game. Conor enters OBEX world to rescue Sandy, navigating its strange realms.
THE CAST – Albert Birney, Callie Hernandez & Frank Mosley
THE TEAM – Albert Birney (Director/Writer) & Pete Ohs (Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 90 Minutes
Albert Birney’s Conor Marsh is someone consumed by the screens that surround him. Even though Conor’s analog lifestyle is bound by the technology of his time, he comes off as a more than familiar modern male, all too common today. How else is an individual whose identity is teetering on a trauma-induced agoraphobia supposed to waste the time away? Most of Birney’s slightly unsettling introduction to “OBEX” sharply places the audience within the confines Conor seems content with. His abnormal television setup, only enhanced by his VHS collection, is bountiful. His neighbor, Mary, played by Callie Hernandez, brings him his groceries every Wednesday. Even the slightest chance of loneliness that creeps in through his abstract dreams is put at ease by the accompaniment of his canine companion, Sandy. It may not be an ideal lifestyle, but it is certainly a life. A life that is blurred between the lines of reality and fiction due to Conor’s interaction with the OBEX computer game, which plunges him from his solitary safety to bring his best friend back home.
“OBEX,” which plays like the surrealist cousin to Mike Cheslik’s “Hundreds of Beavers,“ takes a small-scale depiction of digitalized disturbia and slowly integrates elements of high fantasy, a genre that is more than popularized by the period in which the film takes place. Birney’s direction playfully throws his protagonist into a loop, whether by having actors dress in animal suits, using giant television screens for heads, or injecting abstract visuals, all of which add to the uneasiness. Birney and Pete Ohs’s schematic screenplay is merely a blueprint for Birney’s direction, structured like the very point-and-click game that intrigues Conor. The technical backbone of “OBEX“ is a capable display of low-budget filmmaking, making the most of what it has. Ohs, who doubles as the film’s cinematographer, successfully brings Birney’s vision to life, dabbling in gorgeous black-and-white imagery that is a striking rejection of the normalcy audiences are used to for most of the film’s brief runtime.
It also helps that Birney’s ability to create an auditory sense of anxiety is in full force due to the terrific sound editing. The clacking of Conor’s keyboard, the consistent chirping of cicadas (which symbolically play a significant role in the film), and the scraping of toast not only irritate viewers but also help explain why Conor is the way he is. “OBEX“ is a film fully defined by the vibe it elicits. One that burrows into audiences’ subconscious so they follow along for the experience as a whole. Birney is a solid avatar for the whirlwind of reactions many will have, as his performance as Conor is nothing revelatory but firm for what the film needs. Frank Mosley’s Victor, the only other performer with enough dialogue to even be considered a character, makes an impression even when the giant monitor placed over his head and onto his shoulders robs him of any chance to be emotive. The performances of “OBEX“ work more in service of the visual language Birney creates, and that’s not a bad thing at all.
The film is inherently a litmus test, ostracizing those unwilling to be dragged through the current Birney hopes audiences will willingly ride along. If audiences aren’t willing to suspend disbelief for what Birney and Ohs are serving up, then they won’t be persuaded by the film’s back half, which is an experience of its own. “OBEX,” at its core, is a hero’s journey of sorts, in how one can escape the reflective prisms we seek to imprison ourselves in. Also, when one has a pet as adorable as Sandy, how is it not enough to fuel oneself to go through hell and back to get her back?
