A lonely man named Richardson (Brian Ballance) sits alone with nothing but an open fire and his horse. As he sits there, discussing the Blisters on his hands, he must relive his tragic past. He talks to the only one willing to listen, his horse, and as he recounts the many people close to him that he’s lost, he must come to terms with what lies ahead of him. But finding a balance between the good and the bad isn’t always easy.
Darkness sits behind Richardson, constantly lurking throughout the course of Blisters, but light lies just in front of him.The two juxtapose one another throughout the film, and they allow viewers to see that both light and dark exist within the film’s protagonist. All the darkness that lies behind him is certainly sad, but in that darkness, where viewers can see nothing but a black backdrop, they understand that those things that exist in his past also don’t define him. That fire on the other hand illuminates Richardson throughout Blisters, and it’s the only form of light present in the short film. The fire sheds light on the titular blisters, the emotion present on Richardson’s face, and everything that viewers need to see (nothing more and nothing less). That fire reminds viewers that good things are to come, and that darkness hasn’t fully absorbed him.
Along with the lighting, there’s a joke that exists at the conclusion of the film. One, singular joke wraps up all that Richardson had said throughout the duration of Blisters–and it confirms for viewers the direction that the characters’ life is likely heading. It reminds us that there is always a light at the end of the tunnel–and that no matter what there is always a way to remain optimistic, even through the harshest situations. The cinematic and literary aspects of Blisters are nearly perfect, and they bring Ballance’s vision of pain, suffering, and rebirth to life in beautiful ways.
Speaking of the cinematic aspects of Blisters, I found a certain aspect of the cinematography to be incredibly interesting. The film feels like it’s one continuous shot even though it’s not–and this allows everything present in Richardson to pile on and become even more emotional. Viewers forget that the camera constantly transitions between different shots as a result of smooth transition. This feeling that Blisters is one, cohesive shot invites viewers into the narrative, and it helps them to better feel the paralyzing nature of what occurs throughout the film.
Ballance is a wonderful actor–he conveys emotion with vigor and expertise, and he’s incredibly unassuming, allowing viewers to better appreciate the semintment present within his character. His emotions rise to the surface before he even begins to speak, and he literally is the driving force behind Blisters. His ability to bring this story to life rivals some of the most talented in Hollywood, and, maybe even better, he looks the part. He’s common, simple, and it appears like he’s very just like everyone else–allowing him to resonate with viewers everywhere. While he may have been the only choice to play this character (as he also wrote the film), I can’t imagine anyone else doing a better job in this role.
Blisters is an emotional thriller of sorts, as it explores the depths of the human psyche after intense emotional trauma. As Richardson attempts to come to terms with everything that has plagued him in the past, viewers get a good look at how that trauma manifests itself. Through a conversation with a horse, Richardson is a peak into these harsh realities, and Ballance brings these sentiments to life with impeccable beauty. Every aspect of this film is done incredibly well; from cinematography, to metaphor, to the literary genius that exists throughout the narrative, Blisters is truly brilliant. Led by Ballance, Blisters is one of the most well put together short films I’ve seen in some time.
Directed by Chris Foster.
Written by Brian Ballance.
Starring Brian Ballance.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐½/10
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