I AM EASY TO FIND. Alicia Vikander in a Film Like No Other

“Fear before the screening” – stifling emotions overwhelmed me, and I kept postponing the date in my calendar to write a review of Mike Mills’ short film. I rarely experience such a troublesome feeling, that an upcoming film might strongly affect me in some way. I rarely fear a screening at all, especially one that lasts less than thirty minutes. Some time has passed since watching it, and I no longer feel any anxiety toward this small spectacle—instead, I’m now afraid of writing about it. “I Am Easy to Find” successfully immersed me in a lake of relentless sadness, one that will be hard to leave without doing a personal résumé.

It portrays one of life’s scenarios that could be relevant to anyone. This film, like a thorny spike, pricks us in a tender spot, bringing to the surface our deepest grievances, fears, and life concerns, forcing us to confront them. It’s up to us whether we triumph and take control of our fate or allow ourselves to be swept away by total dread. One thing is certain, and it’s what Mills tries to convey in his disarming story: throughout our lives, up until death, we remain the same person; what happens to us depends solely on ourselves.

The work I am reviewing is meant to be a companion piece to the album of the same title, functioning as a compatible complement, yet at the same time gaining its own autonomy, shaping its individual direction. Therefore, it is not only a visualization of The National’s latest album but also a standalone creation, becoming a bitter metaphor for life, based on the creators’ beliefs and vision. The screenplay, written solely by Mike Mills, depicts the journey of the main character, presumably named Rylan (based on one of the songs from the album), played by the lively Alicia Vikander (“Ex Machina“, “The Danish Girl”). We follow her from birth to the end of her journey—accompanying her through her first love, her exploration of the world around her, her encounters with pain and death, as well as moments of angelic beauty but also overwhelming bitterness. We empathize with her, feel emotions along with her, becoming one with her, because the “biography” being told could be about any of us—after the screening, you may find yourself asking, why not? Why couldn’t I be the protagonist?

The artistry of this auteur vision reveals itself in the uniqueness of deliberate creative choices that Mills wisely employs; he’s a perceptive director, also clever, utilizing the best tricks from his previous films. He strives to make “I Am Easy to Find” exceptional. There’s a lot of bitterness reminiscent of “20th Century Women”, but also warm moments akin to those in “Beginners”. This time, he doesn’t draw from other directors; instead, he extracts everything possible from The National’s music, which becomes the second main character in this life story. Audible from the very first seconds, the music plays on and on until the final credits. And then, there remains only cold silence, along with a chaotic jumble of thoughts, so very disheartening after the screening.

The black-and-white convention, familiar from two competing titles—”Cold War” and “Roma”—which gives the film its cold tones, doesn’t take center stage here. What deserves attention, however, is the almost complete lack of dialogue. Instead, the role of dialogue is taken on by a kind of commentary shown in place of subtitles. The depicted events are given short annotations explaining what’s happening on screen, what has happened, or what might happen in the future. Sometimes, Mills changes the color palette, and in some situations, he doesn’t even intend to show what’s happening—he plays with the viewer’s senses, asking them to imagine certain things, to try to feel on their own, and fully engage in the viewing experience. Thus, we’re almost unknowingly watching an interactive screening, with a melancholic path set by the director himself.

Ultimately, there’s one metaphorical move here that I find really appealing because I like this way of interpreting life’s journey. Alicia Vikander’s character, not only nameless in the film (a symbol of her character’s functionality, an allegory of humanity), also does not change her form. We only ever see the actress on screen—both when she is four years old and when she begins to age. Here, Mike Mills presents his personal thesis: throughout life, we remain the same person, and even though something like fate may cause us terrible harm, we can still find the strength to chart the further course of our modest existence. Different moments affect our future choices, and we never remain indifferent to childhood memories, but we are capable of much more than it may initially seem.

The ephemeral portrayal of life’s course by Mike Mills makes a colossal impression—I can easily call this film his magnum opus. Who knows, maybe the short length of “I Am Easy to Find” was intentional? One thing remains certain—you won’t find such a masterpiece, pulsating with so many different emotions, anytime soon. You can watch Mills’ work here.