The biggest strength of 5.7 Seconds has to be its story. Director duo Tim Aslin and Shane Cibella’s short film is mostly confined to the inside of a car. It begins with a woman hurriedly getting into a car. She’s clearly trying to hide from the outside, which implies something terrible out there. Inside the car, she finds a man in the backseat. He appears to be all nice and normal. But she is skeptical. She’s injured and bleeding, but when he offers to help, she refuses. He tries to assure her that she has absolutely nothing to fear, and just like her, he’s also hiding (from whatever is out there) inside the car. But she still doesn’t want to believe it. In fact, she still thinks he’s one of them. Now if I told you who she’s referring to as “them,” it would be a major spoiler, so it’s better for you to figure that out. There’s a clear hint of what this is about and where the story is going, and if you can notice that, then you probably wouldn’t be surprised in the end. But that doesn’t take away anything from the short film, which is mostly fantastic.
5.7 Seconds plays it very smart by setting it up as a single location thing. It’s a classic short film technique, but there’s also risk in it. There’s every chance of the audience getting bored if you fail to make what’s happening on screen not quite engaging enough. But 5.7 Seconds has no such problem as it hooks the audience right away and doesn’t let go for a single second. With each passing minute, the film ups the ante when it comes to the intensity, and that works out quite brilliantly in favor of the narrative. The acting of Shante DeLoach in the short film is very impressive. From the press material that I received, I got to know about her theater background, which only makes sense considering how good she is in this short. Her character’s name is Jane, by the way, even though no one ever utters it. The man in the car happens to be Erik, played by actor Henry Hetz. Like DeLoach, he also has a solid theater background. I should mention here that since I’ve started reviewing short films, I’m getting to see the work of these lesser-known (or unknown) talented actors, which I consider to be a really cool thing.
Other than DeLoach and Hetz, there’s another character here whose name is never mentioned (and also can’t be found anywhere). This character of an unnamed young woman is played by Grammy-nominated vocalist Whitney Tai. This is her first foray into acting, although she doesn’t have much to do or say. Her character only appears in the ending scene, and that’s the only time 5.7 Seconds shows you the outside of the car. And that’s where the problem lies. It’s true that everything becomes as clear as day the moment you get to see the outside of this car, but it also takes the edge away. I believe the only reason the director duo made the choice of offering an explanation that feels like it spoon-feeds you is to save the audience from going to Google and fanatically searching for those ending explainer articles (I also happen to write those, by the way). It’s a wise choice given the chances of finding short film explainers are slim, as people barely cover them. That said, the ending of 5.7 Seconds still hurts the otherwise fantastic short film. Not that it completely ruins all the good work, but it would have been absolutely perfect if the short had ended the moment the car door was opened. Alternatively, it could have kept the action inside and only relied on sound to tell us what was really happening. That would have robbed Tai the opportunity of making her acting debut, though.
As I’m writing this article, the city I live in is in a state of chaos. About three weeks ago, a female doctor was brutally raped and murdered while on duty at one of the most well-known hospitals in the heart of the city. A crime like that was bound to shake everyone and then set a fire blazing. My city is still burning, looking for justice and a safer tomorrow. In case you’re wondering, no, I’m not deviating, and this is still a review of Tim Aslin and Shane Cibella’s 5.7 Seconds. The reason behind me mentioning all this is the origin story of how 5.7 Seconds came to life. According to Tim, the short happens to be a cumulative result of many women sharing their experiences about many kinds of harassment they’ve received from men—be it physical or mental assault, stalking, or anything else. There’s a very popular “not all men” debate going around all over social media these days. Some self-proclaimed good men came up with the term, which basically says some men might be terrible, but that doesn’t mean you get to brand the entire male kind as irredeemable. I personally find it idiotic and offensive, and from what I saw in 5.7 Seconds, I’m certain that the director duo of Aslin and Cibella feels the same way as me. Quite naturally, this short film is a tight slap to the face of all these “not all men” activists, meninists (choose whatever sounds funny). Sure, I am not a fan of the ending, but I will absolutely recommend this to everyone because the world we live in needs more of these kinds of stories. If not anything, it should at least raise awareness.
