Sometimes, it’s difficult to find the right words to describe a movie you’ve just viewed. Filmmaking is an art form, one that does not (and should not) conform to many standards or limitations. That’s the beauty of the creative process: you’re free to make whatever you desire, because there is always an audience for the story you’re attempting to tell.

The Runner, a short film written, directed, and produced by Jae Matthews and Augustus Miller of the electronic musical group Boy Harsher, takes the viewer on a 40 minute bizarre, meta-filled ride of absurdity. To describe the plot of this movie would mean having to fully understand it, which is a daunting task, to say the least. 

Perplexing right from the start, it follows a mysterious woman (Kris Esfandari) in blood-soaked clothing as she ventures through the woods and eventually to a rural town. It’s clear there’s a unique and startling backstory to her, and as she moves on to each location, we are offered breadcrumbs that help piece together what, exactly, is going on with her. 

Set to the soundtrack and musical score by Boy Harsher themselves, we go back and forth between following this strange woman’s journey and clips of the band performing the music. It’s virtually dialogue-free, relying heavily on the score to guide it along. It’s a bold choice, and while it makes sense considering who the creators are, it leans so much on the music that it feels more like a prolonged video than it does an actual movie. In some ways, it would have served better to be marketed as just that.

All that said, the score is by far the strongest point of The Runner. Jae Matthews’ vocals are ethereal and effortless, and the instrumentals provide an eerie, spacey aesthetic. There is something to be said for the acting abilities of Esfandiari as well, who has to depend on facial expressions and silent acting for practically the entirety of the film. 

It’s obvious the band was going for an avant-garde, offbeat method of storytelling that could additionally serve as a companion to their latest album, but it ultimately dives too deep into the peculiar that leaves it unrelatable. Once The Runner is over, the overall feeling is one of unsettling discomfort, which is often encouraged in horror, but only if there can be some sense of counterbalance provided. You’re more likely to feel the need for an immediate palate cleanser than you are for a repeat viewing. 

3 out of 10