WALLS LIKE WINDOWS | Omeleto

A woman invites an escort into her home.


WALLS LIKE WINDOWS is used with permission from Werner Vivier. Learn more at https://wvivier.com.


Leon is an escort who has been summoned to the home of an older woman for his work that day. He arrives at Maggie's well-appointed, lived-in home, where the two settle down for a chat.

During the conversation, Leon tries to ascertain exactly what Maggie is asking of him, and attempts to put her at ease. But she remains vague and uncertain of what to do. When she finally invites him upstairs, he discovers something shocking -- only to find himself locked in the bathroom as Maggie tries to explain exactly why she needs Leon.

Directed and written by Werner Vivier, this short drama is somewhat of a shapeshifter of a narrative, beginning one way and then veering off into another direction that recasts all the earlier moments in a new light. Its beginning has shades of suspicion, as we see Maggie digging in her backyard and an escort arrives at her home. They are different ages, races and classes, and outside of this potential transaction, would seem to have nothing in common.

As Leon enters the home and sits down with Maggie, they're captured in a shadowy naturalism, from static angles and vantage points that suggest a voyeuristic, almost secretive atmosphere. An arid, almost spectral sound design lends an eeriness to the proceedings, as suspense quietly builds about what will transpire between the pair. Their dialogue, too, has a shadowy, halting aspect to it, with Leon trying to figure out exactly what Maggie wants him to do. Leon talks frankly, as does Maggie, but they seem to have different agendas. Their conversation has a disconnect to it, one that the storytelling builds into a quietly compelling mystery.

It's not until Leon learns Maggie's secret that they finally can communicate with one another directly. Maggie's desire is a strange, shocking one, but one that requires the privacy and confidentiality that an escort provides. At first, Leon refuses, but as they talk, their genuine emotions and reactions emerge. Both actors Juliet Stevenson and Anthony Welsh are excellent, offering honest, subtle and precise performances and making what could be a ludicrous situation into something quietly raw and moving, as Leon decides if he can help Maggie or not.

Intimate, humane and empathetic, WALLS LIKE WINDOWS could have veered into absurdity, but the quality of the storytelling, craft and performances elevate it into a strangely luminous study of grief and isolation. It captures how we can be immobilized by the shock of mortality, and how that shock can cause us to make erratic choices or fixate on the odd, quotidian details surrounding death -- anything to avoid directly facing the awful truth. But its deepest resonance is as a portrait of the kindness of others and the willingness to help someone in their time of sharpest sorrow, and how that humanity gets us through the hardest moments.