Radius

Egregious acts of villainous content are cosmically externalized after an erroneous admission of covert maniacal desire, the resultant coupling romantically symbolizing the ways in which a strong union can prevent its partners from diabolically seducing appetite, if they focus on mutual goals at hand, after having been intergalactically forgiven.

Realizing that if they don't remain close together the destruction of life will balefully revel, they struggle to stay united as law enforcement seeks viral separations.

Amnesia encourages their love's growth even if past lives ungraciously intervene, appeals to authorities instigating carnage, as two young lovers radically strive.

To understand what's happening.

Without ever asking, "why?"

Caroline Labrèche and Steeve Léonard's Radius makes the most of its small budget.

It's an excellent example of a film maximizing its cinematic appeal while working within financial constraints.

While it deals with extraordinary subject matter, its plot is fantastically plausible, a bit of down-to-earth realistic imagination, meaning that its multiple woodland settings are narratively justified.

The script doesn't take on airs or attempt to situate itself within a broader cultural dynamic, rather, it minimally focuses on using every amorous/confused/desperate/caring/terrified/inquisitive/calculating syllable to move the action along within its own tightly constructed boundaries.

Diego Klattenhoff (Liam) and Charlotte Sullivan (Jane) calmly yet keenly adopt level-heads to judiciously consider their predicament and logically structure stoic certitude, fine performances athletically exemplifying cold hard scientific rationality.

Plus there's a twist at the end that propels it to another level without histrionically horrifying the ethics of the heartbreak, remarkably well done startling severance, sudden historical revelations, which complicate everything that's passed beforehand.

It could be a solid television series methinks, this Radius, allegorical implications of the storyline notwithstanding.

I'm thinking at least two chilling seasons on Space could be hauntingly broadcast, the inevitable cataclysm tragically intensifying each passing tender chaotic moment, thereby indirectly commenting upon cultural obsessions with the past, while polemically polarizing discourses of mercy.

Prolonged judgment withheld.

True love?