‘Imposter’ Stings Like A Bee

Most boxing fans are casual, tuning in a few times a year to watch Canelo, Fury or the Charlo twins. As it turns out, turning over the rock that is professional boxing and taking a peek at what the casual fan tends to miss is fertile soil for a short film. Imposter (2021) parks the viewer in a room with our protagonist (a young, nameless boxer), and a therapist that the boxing commission has compelled him to talk to. The film hovers a magnifying glass above the toughest opponent that the disgraced boxer has shared the ring with yet; himself.

It's a pleasant surprise, remembering just how much can be done with six minutes, two actors and a camera. Jared Knecht's Imposter is the kind of short film that should be emulated. The editing is excellent, the sound design and cinematography has precisely the kind of risk-taking attitude that hungry directors should aspire to bake into their shorts. However, the acting falls a bit flat and the writing has room to improve - I’ll elaborate a bit later - but, to expect anything close to perfection with regard to these elements is a failure to celebrate the reasons why this medium is so valuable. I don't turn to shorts for reliably breathtaking performances or witty dialogue. Often, attention should be allocated toward the concept that the short aims to contend with. If a narrative opens a keyhole worth looking through, we should be solving for the how of that equation. The how of Imposter comes in the form of camera work, lighting and editing.

Spliced into this clinical visit are glimpses of the fight in which our boxer threw the shot that landed him a seat in this particularly ornate office. These edits are done in such a way as to not lose our place in the real-time conversation between these two. This technique comes with its dangers, daring the audience to ask for more physical combat and less of this one-sided deposition. However, the inserts feel called for In this instance. They’re adding to the tension of this exchange, rather than clotting it. The fight sequences themselves feel like a memory. And like all memories, it is beginning to fade. 

A single light source illuminates Johnson and his opponent in the ring, instilling a very stage-like texture to this bout. It is as though Knecht has bypassed the need for a shot of a crowded venue, as he has represented the gaze of this crowd via the overhead spotlight. It is a far-cry from perfectly choreographed fight scenes in blockbuster films, and refreshingly so. Those perfectly slipped punches and leather-slap punch sounds can uproot any fight scene from reality - there is no room for them in Imposter. Some of these recollections are especially troubling for the protagonist, and Knecht treats them accordingly; the punches aren’t heard at all. We hear a pounding heartbeat, jeering fight fans and a high-pitched frequency instead - a fine maneuver that kept it grounded in memory. This route is even more effective when working concomitantly with the choppy nature of these recollections and training montages.

Cranston Johnson only hits one note, but at least holds it well. There is no movement, no music in his temperament. He occupies the same amount of smug skepticism the whole time, which is a bit of a shame. There were moments that, had he pulled back a bit, could’ve been a lot larger. When declaring himself ‘the king’ for example. At one point he says to her “I wouldn’t expect a f****** shrink to understand.” Lines like this one become lost in the shuffle if the rest of them match this intensity. When he walks out on the psychologist, I was left trying to figure out what had been stopping him to that point. To be fair, this strikes me as a script flaw as well; The psychologist is not making any attempt to extract or even invite anything out of this character. He is supposedly compelled and reluctant to be here, but is also tasked with being the kind of character that willingly delivers monologue after monologue about himself and his problems. 

Watch the movie and you will come to know why the name fits. Memory can be a fickle ledger of account, and Imposter demonstrates it tactfully. We’ve got cinematographer Khalid Mohatsehb and editor Matt Murphy to thank for that, alongside the reliable direction of Jared Knecht. Let this be a lesson to all of the hungry short filmmakers out there: Issues that pertain to the script or the performances can be exculpated when production shares a strong vision. Watch Imposter - it’s far less expensive than pay-per-view.

Previous
Previous

'Post Office' An American Tragedy

Next
Next

Motion Picture: A Strike Could Shutdown Film Production in the U.S. if AMPTP Doesn’t Negotiate