Devoid entirely of dialogue, the short film conjures an immensely conflicted realm of domesticity simply by way of visuals and performances. It is marked by abuse, addiction, violence and the adverse consequences of the same on the relations that exist within this familial space. Denied a voice or agency within the structure, the wife watches quietly as her alcoholic husband puts her and their son through intense abuse and trauma on a daily basis. <br><br> Outside the house, however, is a little shrubbery of roses, serving as mute spectators to the tragedy unfolding before them. As the boy waters them, the woman perhaps watches them from her window, and the husband destroys property while they stand witness, the story develops into its own, offering you a motif, ever present and silent, and yet, weaving the existence within the four walls of the house into a whole.

I Belong to the Roses

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