WAYNE

"Wayne" is a short that immediately sets itself apart by refusing to take the easy route of a simple boy-meets-girl story. Instead, Matthew Raponi takes the classic terrain of romance and mines it for something far messier, funnier, and more human: the way self-doubt creeps into intimacy and sabotages our best intentions. At just over twenty minutes, the film manages to be both playful and painfully honest, balancing comedy, drama, and surrealism with a sharpness that feels entirely its own.

At the heart of it lies the relationship between Peter and the figure inside his head, Wayne. The conceit could easily have tipped into gimmickry, but Raponi makes it the beating heart of the story—an inventive way to externalize the inner chatter of insecurity, ego, and self-sabotage that so many people wrestle with when trying to connect with another person. It’s funny, yes, but the humor is always layered with an ache. The alter ego isn’t just comic relief; he embodies the parts of Peter that he fears, loathes, and can’t quite reconcile with, which makes every scene between them both entertaining and unnervingly real.

The film is at its strongest when it leans into that surrealist lens—those dreamlike shifts between the present date and the fragments of past relationships. They come alive not only as memories but as living spaces Peter can wander through, exposing his patterns and regrets with an almost theatrical quality. This stylization creates a rhythm that keeps the short brisk and engaging, never settling too long into conventional romance or drama before tugging the rug and showing us another jagged piece of Peter’s psyche.

What lingers most, though, is the thematic clarity. Wayne doesn’t preach, but it does nudge us towards an uncomfortable truth: intimacy with others is impossible without some degree of intimacy with ourselves. That’s a heavy theme for a comedy-drama to carry, but the film never buckles under it. Instead, it embraces contradiction—humor laced with sadness, romance shadowed by fear, confidence undercut by doubt. It’s this balancing act that gives Wayne its resonance, making it both relatable and thought-provoking.

What makes "Wayne" linger is how cleanly it ties its surreal wit to something deeply recognisable — the constant push-pull between how we present ourselves and how we secretly feel. It’s tender without sentimentality, playful without losing sight of its emotional heft. Raponi crafts a film that feels complete in itself: sharp, entertaining, and quietly moving. Wayne isn’t just a short that makes an impression in twenty-one minutes — it’s a story that lodges itself in your head, the way inner voices so often do.