“Love & Other Crimes” is a moody, muscular short film that punches above its weight. It’s gritty, stylish, and surprisingly tender.

Clarito Zapanta’s 22-minute indie crime drama doesn’t waste a second. It opens with a man and woman bound to chairs, bloodied and silent. The film is grim, but not gratuitous. It quickly pivots to a police precinct, where Noah (played by Justin P. Slaughter) recounts a tale of drugs, violence, and a man called Jason.

Noah’s story unfolds as a noir-tinged memory play, stitched together with tension, romance, and a touch of melancholy. Slaughter delivers a revelation as Noah. He’s soft-spoken and almost gentle, but there’s weight behind his eyes. Noah is not your typical bruiser; he’s thoughtful, wounded, and quietly magnetic. His scenes with Jaelyn Sierra (as Shaye) are the emotional anchor of the film. Their diner meet-cute is charming without being cloying, and their chemistry feels lived-in. You believe these two could make it, if only the world would let them.

Then there’s Jason, played by Jordan Nancarrow. He’s portrayed with a boyish grin and dead eyes. Jason is the kind of villain who doesn’t shout; he whispers, then pulls the trigger. One moment he’s charming, the next he’s smashing heads through glass tables. It’s unsettling, and it works. Jason isn’t just bad; he’s unpredictable, and that’s far worse.

The film’s structure is clever. It’s a story within a story, told through Noah’s recollections. There’s a sense of inevitability to it all, like watching a car crash in slow motion. You know it won’t end well, but you can’t look away. The cinematography is tight and intimate, favouring close-ups and low lighting. It feels like we’re eavesdropping on something we shouldn’t hear.

Of course, there are flaws. The ending is abrupt—more of a fade-out than a conclusion. And while the film hints at deeper backstories, it doesn’t quite explore them. But that’s forgivable. This is a short, after all, and it does what shorts should: it leaves you wanting more.

“Love & Other Crimes” is a stylish, character-driven slice of indie grit. It has heart, edge, and just enough mystery to keep you hooked.

Facebook

Google

Twitter

We hope you're enjoying BRWC. You should check us out on our social channels, subscribe to our newsletter, and tell your friends. BRWC is short for battleroyalewithcheese.