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A Trick of the Light is a short film by Brandt Ryan – based on a short story by Pinckney Benedict that first appeared in the Zootrope literary magazine. If the name is familiar, you’ve also read my review of his play Restitution. If the name of the film itself rings a bell, perhaps you’ve noticed it on my Bandcamp page. You see – and this should also serve as a disclaimer of sorts, though it hasn’t affected this review – I’ve composed the score for the film. I’ve also had many interesting conversations with Brandt about art, creativity, films, and the Gothic.

Speaking of, you might have noticed “Gothic” is one of the tags accompanying this post. Is A Trick of the Light a Gothic film? There isn’t a yes/no answer to this (which, funnily enough, would be a heck of a Gothic marker if you asked me as a Gothic fiction specialist), but I’ll come back with the long answer in a moment.

You might also recall there is (at the time I’m writing this) one more film review on Home for Fiction: Robert Eggers’s The Lighthouse, which is as Gothic as it can be. Plenty of coincidences – another Gothic markerPerhaps I’m being a bit hasty calling coincidences a Gothic marker, but there is an undeniable connection between the Gothic and what Bakhtin called “adventuristic time”. If you’re interested in the topic, also see my post on coincidences in Frankenstein.! Let’s take a closer look to see why A Trick of the Light is a genuinely intriguing, affectively impactful short film.

A Trick of the Light: the Basics

In Brandt Ryan’s A Trick of the Light, we find ourselves in a motel room together with the two main characters, Lida Lee and Curtis. We quickly discover they are a couple crossing the country; they’re also robbers and murderers, a modern version of Bonnie and Clyde. The film focuses on their short stay at this motel, as they’re considering their next step, while having a discussion on doubt, identity, and ethics.

The setup is somewhat claustrophobic, despite the light coming in from the window. Of course – and you can imagine the director winking – this is partly ironic.

It is precisely the presence of ample daylight that creates a sense of claustrophobia, emphasizing the narrative contrast between the “in here” and the “out there”, darkness and light, being an outlaw and an obedient citizen, being on the run and being free – though, as the film asks us to reflect on, what is freedom anyway?

Audience as Accomplices

By placing the audience in the motel room together with the two main characters, the film also turns them into accomplices: As viewers, we really are siding with Lida Lee and Curtis, we are hanging on their every word, ingesting their every gesture, expecting to hear truths and discover new realities.

The effect is very subtle (as it should be in self-respecting art), yet also immensely powerful. A Trick of the Light… tricks its viewers into subconscious comprehension in a way that is eminently dreamlike and, ultimately, Gothic: You know, yet you don’t quite know why you know. More still, you don’t quite know what you know.

But is A Trick of the Light a Gothic film?

A Trick of the Light: the Broader Gothic Mode

There are plot elements in A Trick of the Light that fully and openly allude to Gothic conventions, which I will not name. At the same time – and this I will mention because it’s crucial – these allusions are ambiguous. The viewer never knows what is the real truth; how much of it is allegory, how much factual reality.

Obviously, ambiguity is at the very core of the Gothic, as I have explained in numerous posts – for instance on the differences between Gothic, fantasy, and science fiction, or on the kinds of ambiguity one finds in the Gothic.

The broader Gothic mode goes well beyond castles, shapeshifting creatures, blood-sucking monsters and whatnot. The broader Gothic mode is about darkness (and light) in the mind; about individuality (and our place in society); about divergence and disruption (against hopeless mediocrity).

When Curtis tells Lida Lee “we’re outlaws, we’re outside their system”, what is at play is not merely a societal contrast, but an ontological one. Curtis and Lida Lee are not merely disobeying society; they are outside society.

Light and as Shadow

I mentioned earlier how the setup is claustrophobic, despite the presence of ample light – indeed, in a sense because of it.

But here’s the funny thing.

In the context of the ontology of the film and its characters – in other words: the who is who – light acquires a different meaning not only as metaphor (what I referred to earlier as the contrast between “in here” and “out there”) but literally; as light.

Discussions about the nature of light abound in the film (A Trick of the Light, duh). Lida Lee talks about the sun, about blindness, about vision and disappearance and reflections in mirrors. The film operates on multiple levels simultaneously, from an easy-to-follow crime story to an allegorical Gothic to existentialism.

A Trick of the Light: Overall Impression

Obviously, I loved the film. It’s equally obvious I can’t be objective about it (that is, even less than about art in general). I have had unique access to the director’s thought process, I have participated myself in the process composing the soundtrack, so I’m obviously not your average viewer.

Still, as I mentioned, the film operates on multiple levels. Whether you’re the kind of audience who likes simple storylines or, conversely, you look for complexity and cerebral reflection, you’re certain to find something that piques your interest in A Trick of the Light.

You can watch A Trick of the Light here – and there’s even a 50% discount for Home for Fiction readers! Simply use the coupon code: STRIGOI