“Krisis” is a short movie that follows the emotional journey of a woman facing mental and physical illness and the isolation caused by painful events. Through the contact with nature, she transforms suffering into a new interpretation of life, discovering the inner strength to overcome pain and embrace joy. An ode to human resilience and the healing power of nature.

Review by Parker Jesse Chase

Krisis sits in the quiet space between solitude and loneliness. It follows Zoe, a woman living with
the way pain reshapes her inner world. This is not a story told through plot, but through feeling,
rhythm, and repeated return.

We meet Zoe alone. At home. In nature. By the shore. Loneliness feels less like an enemy and
more like a constant companion, woven into her daily routine. Her mind spirals, fears creep in,
and heavy hurdles are forthcoming. There is rest here, but also confinement. Shelter offers
breath, yet it also holds an illusion of safety.

The film moves gently between the cycles of battles and rebuilding, always circling back to the
past. A rocking chair sways. Music flows with a calm pulse. Close shots of flowers, hands, feet
ground us in the body. Nature and human presence begin to blur. Zoe stands firm on the rocks,
facing the ocean, rooted for a moment.

Then comes the break. Zoe at a computer, nearly frozen, wrapped in a yellow raincoat. The
color feels loud against her stillness. Misery settles in. She scrubs grout clean, as if trying to
erase what came before. The narration drifts in, poetic and spare, speaking of leaves and
peace.

A striking image follows. Zoe walks across hills carrying a wooden cross. The weight is clear.
Double exposures spin the land around her. Draped in white, she appears almost suspended,
like she is walking on water. When she finally throws the cross aside, she reaches toward the
camera and faces another version of herself, still bent under its weight.

Among roots and branches, a quiet ritual unfolds. Zoe gives in, not in defeat, but in release. She
lies in the sun as the narrator speaks of trying to find her smile again. The light softens. The sea
sings.

The final moments linger. Zoe watches the sunset as a path of light stretches across the water,
lining up like a way forward. Her hair moves with the wind. A bird crosses the sky in layered
images. The feeling is not triumph, but acceptance. Pain does not vanish, yet joy becomes
possible.

Krisis, directed by Luca Mascara, with Zoe Mara Calvo and narration by Gianfranco Migliorelli, is
a quiet meditation on isolation and the slow return to oneself. Reminding us that nature does not
fix us, but it can hold us long enough to breathe again.