Focus on your breathing as you take in the beautiful mountainside. You won’t even realize how much you miss talking until you hear another person’s voice glide through the silence like a warm knife. Your phone will soon be forgotten. What brings you here? Chad Zemel’s Muse is quiet but impactful. One young man’s journey of self-discovery and self-worth takes him to unexpectedly emotional places. Perhaps being alone in a strange place can really acquaint you with your most honest self.
When we first see Charlie Besso’s Finn, he is scrolling through TikTok in a darkly lit bedroom. We wonder how often his mind cannot settle and he feels uneasy as the night progresses, but that safety evaptorates when he ventures to a meditation center in the desert. At sign-in,I a clipboard outlines some rules, and Finn notices a sign that reads, ‘Please keep noble silence.’ I couldn’t help but think of how valuable a place like this could be for a teen trying to untangle their confused feelings and how silence–without distraction–could center them, especially without the prying eyes of parents or peers.
As Finn respects his new surroundings, his eye is caught on his roommate, Dakota, played with sturdy silence by Malachi Kobayashi. Their room is almost entirely symmetrical down to the positioning of the desk lamps, and the white bedsheets have light yellow stars on them. It’s no wonder that Finn daydreams and dreams of an incident where he innocently played around with a good friend, Will, but was rebuffed when Finn makes a move.
There are so many moments where Zemel could have led this film down all-too-familiar or melodramatic territory, but he resists that urge time and time again. It’s introspective but never overly brooding. Muse is a film that acknowledges how emotions can have a tumbling effect–perhaps Finn is haunted by losing Will’s friendship and it knocks him so off-kilter that it’s weighing on him. In one scene of meditation, there almost feels like an invisible tether between Finn and Dakota as they center their breathing and the sound slows down.
There is value in silence, and Zemel hints at how connection can be useful for so many of us if we allow it to surprise us. It’s tender, instinctive and humane–sometimes without uttering a single word. With so much noise and so many perspectives trying to barge in and tell you how you need to heal, Zemel has created a film that regards trust as a glorious virtue.
Muse plays at the Cleveland International Film Festival as part of the DReam Maker Shorts Program block at the Cedar Lee Theatre on April 14 and at the Playhouse Square Campus Allen Theatre on April 15.
