Chasing Light directed and written by Travis Robertson follows the story of Max played by Leo De Santis who, after a fall, embarks on a journey to discover his identity. But as memories resurface, he wonders: are they his or has someone shaped his past? Max’s search may reveal a truth he is not prepared to face. Chasing Light is an independent film and you end up being surprised by its beautiful, stunning cinematography made by Avery Wilton, Travis Robertson uses light symbolically to reflect Max’s emotional journey. The plays of shadow and lighting contrast with the clarity and darkness of Max’s memories, creating a visual environment that complements the psychological tone of the film.
The color palette, often opaque and gloomy, amplifies the state of mind of disorientation and loss of control that Max experiences. The soundtrack composed by Juan Dussan is also a strong point of the movie. It is soft but emotionally impactful, managing to capture the growing tension effectively, without overdoing it. The music becomes almost an extension of Max’s own character, reflecting his conflicting emotions and moments of introspection. The melancholy soundtrack of Chasing Light is one of the most effective and impactful elements of the film, providing an additional emotional layer that accompanies Max’s psychological journey. The music serves not just as a backdrop, but as an extension of the narrative itself, reflecting the protagonist’s inner states and amplifying the tension that grows throughout the story. Melancholy permeates the entire soundtrack, with soft and often desolate chords that echo Max’s loneliness in his search for the truth.
The composer uses a combination of string instruments, piano and delicate synthesizers, creating a sound that fluctuates between minimalism and the emotionally charged. This choice of sound not only mirrors Max’s internal struggle, but also reflects the sense of fragmentation he experiences as he tries to reconstruct his memories. In scenes of introspection, where Max is immersed in his own thoughts or confronting confusing memories, the music becomes almost ethereal, with scattered melodies and slowly creeping chords. This sound offers a sense of disorientation, as if time and space were distorting for him, something essential in building the tone of the film. As Max’s memories resurface, the music seems to accompany him, not only revealing his fragility, but also reinforcing the idea that he is chasing something he may never achieve: the true light of his identity. At the climax of the movie, when Max gets closer to the truth, the soundtrack becomes even denser and more gripping. The use of string instruments, such as the cello, gives a touch of pain and inevitability, suggesting that the path to the truth will not be easy and that the answers Max seeks may be more painful than he imagines.
The melody, previously soft, becomes more assertive and, at the same time, sadder, signaling that the protagonist is about to confront a reality that will challenge everything he believed himself to be. Although Chasing Light is an independent film, it stands out for its impressive technical and visual execution, something that is often a challenge for productions with more modest budgets. Director Travis Robertson manages, with limited resources, to create a work that not only attracts the audience’s attention for its emotional and psychological content, but also for its sophisticated aesthetics, offering a cinematic experience of the highest level. The art direction of Chasing Light is an example of how an independent film can be visually stunning, even without the resources of major studio productions. Robertson and his team create environments that are both simple and complex, with intelligent use of locations and sets. The color palette is carefully chosen, opting for softer, darker tones that reflect Max’s emotional and psychological state.
The lighting, often subtle and dark, is used not only as an aesthetic element, but also as a visual metaphor for the protagonist’s internal dilemmas, where the contrast between light and shadow becomes a symbol of Max’s struggle between truth and illusion. The editing of Chasing Light is agile and precise, controlling the pace of the story so that it doesn’t get lost in moments of excessive exposition or mystery. The clever editing keeps the tension growing, alternating between Max’s present and fragments of his memories. The use of visual transitions and the superimposition of images, such as flashes of light and distorted memories, create a visual experience that is both hypnotic and disorienting, keeping the viewer immersed in the protagonist’s dilemma. The pace of the film, meanwhile, is deliberately controlled. There is no rush to deliver answers or solve the mystery; on the contrary, Robertson and his team have chosen to develop the suspense more slowly, allowing the tension to build organically. This control of pace, which can be challenging for an independent film, demonstrates a clear technical maturity and artistic vision on the part of the entire team. Leo De Santis, the actor who plays Max in Chasing Light, delivers a performance that, although marked by some technical limitations, manages to convey genuine moments of emotion and vulnerability, which is crucial to the character’s emotional journey. The nature of Max, who is searching for his identity and dealing with disorientation and the complexities of memory, demands a performance that is subtle but charged with internal tension. And although De Santis doesn’t have the same expressive fluidity as other big names in cinema, he manages to capture the essence of this internal struggle, mainly through a more introspective and silent interpretation.
Chasing Light ends up consolidating itself as a unique work on the independent film scene. Its proposal, with a plot that mixes psychological mystery and existential drama, is profound and rich in meaning, and even though its budget is limited, the film manages to provide a visually and emotionally engaging experience. What makes it special is not the great moments of spectacle or exaggerated twists, but its ability to explore the complex subject of identity and memory in a delicate and intense way. The film ends its journey with an outcome that, although it doesn’t resolve all the issues clearly and definitively, exists as a revelation that is as unsettling as it is revealing. Rather than providing a simple answer, the ending of Chasing Light leaves the audience with the feeling that, often, the deepest answers about ourselves can be more painful and disconcerting than the questions. This narrative choice elevates the film to a more philosophical and introspective place, creating an experience that stays with the viewer long after the end credits. What stands out most at the end is the feeling that Chasing Light has enormous potential to be recognized by a wider audience. Its blend of intelligent storytelling, carefully crafted cinematography and deep reflection on identity makes the film stand out among other independent productions.
Although it is still a work in search of greater visibility, the originality of its concept and the emotional depth are aspects that deserve recognition. Chasing Light is a movie that, with its peculiarities and challenges, manages to become something unique, profound and memorable. And, with a little more recognition and visibility, it has everything it takes to reach a wider audience and establish itself as an outstanding work of independent cinema.
