“Incomplete” is a meditative and visually arresting exploration of loneliness, seen through the eyes of a man who longs for someone he has never met. Directed by Sasha Korbut, the film is a love letter to anyone who has ever felt isolated in a world that seems more connected than ever, yet paradoxically distant. What sets this film apart is the combination of storytelling through dance, voice-over, and minimal dialogue, creating a haunting atmosphere that speaks volumes without needing to be overt.
The film opens with the image of a man in a phone booth, dialing a number and clutching a handwritten letter. The phone rings, but no one answers. His voice-over speaks words of longing—”How can I miss you if I have never met you?”—setting the tone for a narrative centered around the emptiness of unfulfilled connection. The voice belongs to Cory Michael Smith, whose delivery strikes the right balance of vulnerability and detachment.
Pontus Lidberg, as the unnamed protagonist, carries the weight of the film’s emotional arc, delivering a heart-wrenching performance without saying a word. His movements convey a quiet desperation as he navigates a day in the bustling streets of New York, brushing against strangers in brief moments of touch and intimacy. Each of these interactions represents an attempt to connect intellectually, physically, or spiritually, but they are fleeting and unsatisfactory, leaving him more disconnected than ever.
The film’s emotional climax occurs during Lidberg’s solo dance in a crowded square. This moment, expertly choreographed, serves as the physical manifestation of his internal struggle. The dance is raw, uninhibited, and emotional, conveying his need to be seen and heard in a world that continues to pass him by. The fact that this powerful performance takes place in front of a faceless crowd, who barely notice him, further drives home the theme of invisibility in modern life.
What makes Incomplete so impactful is its ability to resonate universally. While originally conceived as an exploration of loneliness within the LGBTQIA+ community, the film’s themes expanded to reflect the broader sense of disconnection many experienced during the COVID-19 lockdowns. The visual metaphor of the phone booth, with people lined up to make calls in hopes of finding their own connection, feels particularly timely in today’s world of social media and digital communication, where real, meaningful bonds are often elusive.
The film is elevated by its technical aspects, with sound design by the Academy Award-nominated Leslie Shatz adding an extra layer of emotional depth. The sparse soundscape allows the dance sequences to take center stage, while Yury Revich’s music creates a haunting, melancholic atmosphere that lingers long after the final scene.
Ultimately, Incomplete is not just about longing for another person but about confronting the question of whether the sense of incompleteness we feel comes from external factors or from a disconnection with ourselves. As the protagonist finds peace in his final dance, the film suggests that perhaps the most vital connection we can make is the one within. It’s a poignant, thought-provoking work of art that stays with the viewer, encouraging them to reflect on their own relationships and sense of self.