Shorts: ‘(0, ∞)’ Questions Just How Much You Like to Be Watched

A man and a woman wearing bathrobes stand with their backs to us in a small inset frame in the opening moments of Mar Sudac’s (0, ∞). The man disrobes first and gets on a bed that is just out of frame before the woman takes off her robe and joins him, but there is noticeably not a sexual charge within our reach. There’s a watchful, unsettling quality to this brief prologue, as if we have stumbled upon a clinical home movie. Sudac’s film employs little dialogue and taps into something voyeuristic and unexpectedly romantic while proving that no one else can define a relationship except for the participants involved.

The deadline for the government-sanctioned SX test, requiring all Americans to verify their sexual orientation, is upon us. Without this confirmation, couples cannot apply for loans or even social security, and Gus and Clark are looking to get out of their small apartment and buy a house. There is a quiet acceptance of these procedures as the couple navigates their joined doctor’s appointments.

When a nurse asks Gus and Clark standard questions about their health as it pertains to their daily lives, his back is to them, like he purposely wants to avoid any form of connection or even acknowledgement. Those who waited until the last minute to take their test are herded like cattle in their boxer shorts until it is their turn to step into a room and have someone they can’t see observe their sex to decide how they identify. The results, we are told, will arrive in about 24 hours.

There is a dreaminess to Sudac’s visual storytelling that makes us question the nearness of this dystopia. Some might find comfort in believing that this is a far-fetched fantasy, but there is an edge of darkness in (0, ∞)‘s underbelly when it comes to thinking about being surveilled, control, and judgement. You feel it in your stomach. Even the bedroom, with its floral blankets and pale wooden walls, feels clinical in its construction. This ain’t The Ritz. The people who might carry prejudices are in charge of watching you in your most intimate moments before determining whether you can buy a car or have the financial stability to start a family. This entire exercise is brought to you by the government’s Department of Federal Diligence, a branch that doesn’t seem too far removed from the current administration.

There is something about the curvature of the symbols in the film’s title that bucks against this world’s binary obsession. Five minutes alone with your husband, wife, or partner should not define how you live your life. Those who might be proud of this invasive testing will never understand the emotional bending or flow of a relationship’s journey. Sudac’s thoughtfulness about our past and the potentially dangerous roads ahead are laid out with intelligence, brevity, and gumption. There are many who believe that you deserve zero, but it is up to you to allow infinite passion drive the love you share with someone else.