Blaze

In a modest Paddington terrace, Blaze lives in a tucked‑away roof‑space bedroom filled with a sparse collection of china animals and a single white dragon figurine. The house feels both familiar and confining, its quiet streets echoing the ordinary rhythm of a suburban life that suddenly feels off‑balance. When a shocking, unspoken incident shatters her sense of safety, Blaze retreats inward, seeking refuge in a vivid inner world where the lines between imagination and reality blur.

Her most constant companion in this fragile landscape is a flamboyant, ceiling‑high dragon she calls Zephy, a creature of glittering eyes and fire‑breath that she conjures to fill the silence left by loss. This fantastical friend becomes both a shield and a mirror, allowing her to explore the raw emotions she cannot yet name. The tone of the film hovers between haunting realism and lyrical surrealism, bathing everyday moments in a soft, unsettling glow that reflects her internal turbulence.

Anchoring her is her father, Luke, a solitary man whose own struggles with connection leave him ill‑equipped to bridge the widening gap between them. Their relationship is marked by careful distance, a mix of protective intention and uneasy uncertainty. Around them, ordinary settings—a judo class, school corridors, quiet streets—take on an almost dream‑like quality, hinting at the possibility of healing and redemption that may emerge from the shadows of her imagination. The film invites the audience to linger in the delicate space where childhood wonder meets trauma, asking what it means to find a voice when the world seems both too loud and too silent.

Last Updated: October 05, 2025 at 16:50