Glue

Often, the world disguises itself as a place of comfortable certainties. If cooking times, weather forecasts and work schedules can all be measured and predicted, processed and reduced, it may seem that human behavior itself follows predictable rules. In a universe devoid of mystery and surprise, Glue aims to be a small window into the true nature of our human plight—the capricious, the absurd and the ridiculous, where even the most seemingly ingenuous flirtation can degrade into a bizarre misunderstanding.

Glue was an opportunity for me to be playful, to explore comedy as a film genre new to me. Experimenting with humor, albeit dark humor, as a tool to expose and exaggerate communication misunderstandings, I realized I could reflect on social constructions of romantic love and non-verbal, body language. Being from a different culture, I find this subject especially relevant. I know firsthand that the smallest interactions can turn into curiously complicated negotiations as a consequence of a cultural misunderstanding.

The film shares with early comedy cinema its lack of dialogue, bringing physical comedy to the forefront as a way to challenge the formal conceptions of the familiar “boy-meets-girl” story. It culminates in an informal, almost aggressive, outburst that is surprising and maybe even repellent. The structure of the typical Hollywood love story is so formulaic that we rarely consider the storyline. In Glue, the unexpected subversion of the ending forces the viewer to mentally reconstruct the entire short scene, looking for clues both in the film and in traditional renditions of love stories to understand the strong and unexpected reaction of the characters.