Jules of Light and Dark

By: Sam Frost

Have you ever been afraid to be sad? Afraid to admit you’re alone? There’s a harmony surrounded by loneliness, the way it can seep in and take over without any planning – without anyone even knowing. The characters in Jules of Light and Dark scream loneliness. They scream for connection. This film creeps into you and asks for not only your attention, but for a little piece of yourself for the characters to hold onto.

It takes some time to settle in, to understand what’s trying to be done and how the braided storylines are connected. First, there’s Maya (Tallie Medel) who is rarely seen smiling, even when she seems to be enjoying herself. There is her friend/girlfriend Jules (Betsy Holt) who starts off as that “ray of sunshine” girl, but throughout the film we watch her break. Their story is intertwined with shots of Freddy (Robert Longstreet), a middle-aged man who seems to be all on his own.

The girls’ first adventure is driving out to the country for a rave their friend David (Jonathan Miles Howard) is preforming in. The girls do their own thing – dance, party, etc. Then, David joins them. The tension is strung into the air. At this point it’s not clear who is with who. Maya and Jules seem to be more than friends, but Jules seems more into David. David seems more into Maya. Maya only wants Jules. The three of them are in a tent, experimenting, but it’s obvious Maya doesn’t want to be there.

While this is going on, we see Freddy at a bar with a younger man. They know each other. They’re drinking. Freddy is obviously into the man, but the feeling doesn’t seem mutual. He goes home defeated. The next day the girls are driving back to school in silence when Maya loses control at a tight turn, sending the vehicle crashing into a tree trunk. Freddy is at work nearby and hears the crash. He comes to the rescue, bringing the two storylines together.

Both girls are okay but injured, Jules more so than Maya. The film dives into their healing process, letting it be messy and take time. While the girls are still in the hospital Freddy comes to visit and spend time with Maya who is able to leave her room and get coffee while Jules is still confined to her room. The bonding begins and we watch as spending time with Maya encourages Freddy to reach out to his own children, he’s been long-neglecting. Freddy tries to make changes for the better, as do all of the characters, but what they want seems to always be just out of reach.

The directing style by Daniel Laabs feels choppy and a little uncertain, but this fits the story. It goes well with the characters who themselves are uncertain. The through-line plot isn’t always clear, but the characters are captivating. They tell the story through small moments. For example, we don’t receive any full information about Freddy. It’s all almost there. He mentions an estranged wife and the ignored kids. We see him tell the young man he loves him. But the connection is left up to the viewer. It’s like peering into a story that isn’t ready to be fully told, as if it mirrors Freddy’s own personal withholding.

Medel’s performance throughout the whole film causes you to reconsider your most vulnerably awkward moments, but never more than during the film’s big sex scene. Maya and David are in her room when he tells her he has feelings for her. After explaining that she’s gay, she still decides to try to hookup with him. Medel perfectly portrays that gut feeling of, “I don’t really want to be here, but I also don’t want to be alone.”

The movie calls on loneliness and you can’t escape it for the full length of the film. The characters feel alone even when they’re together and while there are some tender moments of connection, most happiness is felt singularly. If you’re ready for a deep dive into reflections of your own connections and the way you find yourself relating to those around you, Jules of Light and Dark might be a perfect fit!