David and Lisa

In a stark, almost reverent residential center for disturbed youths, David Clemens lives under the constant shadow of a singular terror: any physical contact could be his undoing. His world is measured in the steady tick of clocks, a rhythm that steadies his nerves but also heightens his obsession with time’s inexorable march. The facility itself is a quiet, clinical maze of muted corridors and hushed conversations, where the usual noises of adolescence are replaced by the soft hum of a metronome and the rustle of paperwork. Here, Mrs. Clemens—his overbearing mother—has placed him in hopes of professional guidance, yet the very act of being touched remains an unspoken, looming threat.

Within these walls, Dr. Alan Swinford serves as the resident psychiatrist, a figure of measured patience who attempts to coax David out of his self‑imposed isolation. Their sessions are marked by a delicate balance between clinical analysis and the fragile trust that David is only beginning to extend. The atmosphere is one of careful observation, where each small gesture carries weight, and the unspoken looms as large as the spoken.

Into this measured world arrives Lisa, a fifteen‑year‑old whose presence is split between two distinct facets: one voice that flows only in rhyme, and another that remains mute, communicating through written words. Her duality creates a strange, poetic mirror for David’s own inner turmoil, prompting him to respond in verse and offering a tentative bridge between their isolated existences. Their interaction is a quiet rebellion against the sterile surroundings, hinting at a fragile companionship that could reshape both of their perceptions of touch and connection.

The film hovers between stark realism and lyrical melancholy, painting a portrait of adolescence caught in the grip of psychological fragility. It invites the audience to linger over the subtle sounds of ticking clocks, the soft cadence of rhyme, and the unvoiced yearning for contact in a place where even the gentlest gesture feels like a precipice. The mood is one of introspective tension, promising a journey where the characters’ inner clocks may yet synchronize.

Last Updated: December 04, 2025 at 23:49