Starring: Kai Lennox, Sarah Lind and Zachary Ray Sherman
Directed by: Joshua Erkman
Rated: NR
Running Time: 102 minutes
Dark Sky Films
Our Score: 2 out of 5 Stars
Alex (Kai Lennox) wanders through an abandoned theater, searching for the perfect shot. We watch as he lingers in every decrepit corner, looking for his visual muse among moldy wallpaper and darkened shadows. He finds it. Moves on. Now he’s driving through an equally desolate neighborhood, scouting for his next muse. That’s how “A Desert” begins—and as time goes on, the narrative seems to elude him just as much as it eludes us.
Alex is trying to revive his stalled career and reignite a lost creative spark by going off the grid—leaving his phone behind, detaching from the modern world. That means he has no GPS, no lifeline if something goes wrong. And something does go wrong when Renny (Zachary Ray Sherman) and Susie Q (Ashley B. Smith), a strange couple in the motel room next to his, decide they want to become more than just noisy neighbors.
The problem I kept running into with “A Desert” is that it often feels like nothing is really happening—and I couldn’t bring myself to care much about Alex’s plight. I kept waiting for that visual cue or “ah-ha” moment to illuminate the story, to reward the slow burn. But as the film inches toward its climax, it stretches patience to the breaking point.
To be fair, first-time director Joshua Erkman throws in just enough curveballs to keep me guessing. His eye for detail is strong—each scene feels meticulously composed, even if we’re never quite sure where we’re going. The actors are so fully immersed in their characters that the chaos feels tangible and lived-in. But like I said from the start, the narrative is the biggest mystery here.
I might have enjoyed or even recommended “A Desert” if it didn’t feel like I was piecing together a puzzle with several missing pieces. Visually and performance-wise, the film has a lot going for it. It hints at a deeper meaning, an overarching point to the madness. But by the time the credits rolled, I felt like both my patience—and that point—had vanished in the dust.