I Can See You

In the wake of a high‑profile ecological scandal, a glossy advertising firm is thrust into a pressure‑cooker assignment: craft a campaign that can redeem its tarnished image. The task falls to a trio of eager creatives whose lives have been defined by pitches and deadlines. At the center of the effort is Mickey Hauser, the charismatic voice of the company’s flagship product, whose polished infomercial tone now feels oddly out of step with the urgent, messier reality the brand faces.

The core of the story follows Ben Richards, a restless artist wrestling with a stubbornly blank portrait, and his two colleagues, Doug Quaid, whose bravado often masks deeper doubts, and Kimble, the methodical planner who keeps the team’s logistics afloat. As the deadline looms, the group decides a retreat to a remote Delaware campsite might spark the authenticity they need. Alongside them, Sonia Roja juggles her own career anxieties, while peripheral figures like Ivan—who extends a quiet invitation to a gathering in the woods—and Summer Day, a nostalgic acquaintance, add layers of interpersonal tension.

The woods themselves become a character, a liminal space where the usual rules of advertising and corporate polish begin to fray. Light filters through tangled branches, and the air is thick with the scent of pine and something unidentifiable, hinting at an undercurrent of unease. As the team sets up their equipment, ordinary moments—snapping photos, sharing drinks, casual conversation—are tinged with a subtle distortion, as if the lenses and the mind are both trying to capture something that refuses to stay in focus.

Within this atmospheric backdrop, the film balances the dry humor of creative brainstorming with an escalating sense of unreality. The characters’ relationships, ambitions, and insecurities collide with the forest’s ambiguous presence, suggesting that the line between perception and truth may be far more porous than any marketing brief can accommodate.

Last Updated: October 11, 2025 at 19:43