EARMARK | Omeleto

A man loses his hearing. Mark is at a routine checkup with his lifelong audiologist. He's lived with moderate hearing loss since he was a child, but lately, his condition has been deteriorating. The audiologist presents him with a choice to use a hearing aid or shut himself off further from the world. Remembering the torment from childhood and the stigma around wearing the aid, Mark resists at first. But through his memories and imagination, he remembers his mother and her care and love for him. And those memories help him accept himself for who he really is and embrace the opportunity in front of him. Directed and written by Ste Murray, who also plays the lead role of Mark, this charming and thoughtful short drama is a portrait of a man living with hearing loss, rendered with both quirky humor and understated irony. Mark is an imaginative introvert, quiet and withdrawn, and the film takes detours into his daydreams and imaginings, bringing an element of grounded whimsy into the storytelling as he wrestles with his decision to wear an aid or not. But it's also an exploration of grief, love and memory, and how loved ones we lose still live inside us, helping to guide us through life's decisions and passages. We meet Mark as he's taking his hearing test, hearing the tones of the test. But the audiologist is onto Mark as he clicks randomly, figuring he'll at least land on a tone at some point. She concludes that he needs a hearing aid, something Mark pushes back against, saying he's not deaf and still feeling the sting of childhood memories when he was made fun of. The sound design works well with the gently naturalistic visuals to immerse us in Mark's perspective, both in the present-day one rooted in his sensory experience of muffled sounds and sometimes isolating quiet and in his memories of being young and loved by his steady, caring mother. Always encouraging and understanding, he remembers how she was always there for him, even in moments of difficulty. As Mark, actor Ste Murray's performance is a subtle, restrained one, beginning in a heavy, withdrawn place that's as much sorrow as it is temperament. But as he remembers his mother and tries out the hearing aid, the film's language and sound gently shift: ambient sounds of the world bustling around him creep into the aural design, and Mark gently comes alive as he begins to notice the people and the beautifully odd yet poetic details of life around him. And in one final, touching passage, he's able to commune with and thank the mother who always embraced who he was, even when he couldn't. It brings EARMARK to a beautifully tender, quietly life-affirming conclusion, one that has even more of an impact because of its subtlety and composure. With its thoughtful craft, wit and reservoirs of affection, it leaves viewers with both a deep appreciation for how our senses enrich our lives, a better understanding of the challenges faced by those dealing with deafness or hearing loss and a reminder of how love lives within us -- and is never far when we need it most. EARMARK. Courtesy of Ste Murray at https://instagram.com/ste_murray.