There's a forgotten but readable (if extremely dated) bestseller from the "Swinging Sixties" entitled 'Coffee Tea or Me', the supposedly true memoirs of two stewardesses, in which they ruminate at one point about how married men, when flying alone on business trips, remove their wedding bands. A stewardess that I know (at Lufthansa) once told me that though much of the book is pure fiction, that reflection of male behavior is true. Much along the lines of "when the cat is away, the mice will play", it seems that many a married man hopes for more than just work when leaving the wife and kiddies at home...
What the career of the man in this short film is (Beat Marti), like that of the woman (Katrin Bühring), is never revealed in 'Room 7', but in the opening sex scene occurring in an obvious if nondescript hotel room, the sex seems so spontaneous, so impulsive and unrehearsed – hell, they don't even get their clothes off – that the couple at play seems indeed to be a new one. And just how new is revealed shortly thereafter, when the man lets it drop that they've "only known each other half an hour".
But once the fun is over, things begin to take a decidedly less friendly tone: at first, a well-placed visual reference (with the bedside lamp) to 'Fatal Attraction' clues the viewer that the woman may have something more in mind than just casual sex, and then the man, "Kurt", feeling rejected by a strong woman who really does have no interest in anything other than a one-shot event, quickly reveals himself to be a huge jerk with a fragile ego. When they go their separate ways, that they shall never meet again seems to be a given...
There is no background music for most of the film; this, like the initial use of long unedited shots and close-ups, serves well to underscore the intimacy of the situation we are witnessing. Once the music kicks in, it effectively underscores the buildup of the culminating crosscuts to the ironic ending. An oddly claustrophobic film, 'Room 7' manages to juggle with the viewer's sympathy towards the two characters amazingly well, steering it from mild curiosity about two unknown people to an initial unease about the woman to identification with the man to total disgust in his misogynistic reaction and respect for her sovereign attitude onwards to a final indecisiveness regarding them both. This serves well to retain both the viewer's attention and a general curiosity about where the narrative is going...
If there is something to criticize about the film, it is that by the time it ends, 'Room 7' inadvertently makes the female protagonist much too interesting: unlike with the male, when it comes to the female, the viewer is very much left with the desire to know more about her, like where she comes from, what her motivations are, where they came from, and where they will take her in the long run.
But that would require a feature-length film, and that 'Room 7' is not. It has less than ten minutes (with credits) to offer its brief peek into the meeting of two strangers, and it uses them well. The narrative told therein, as written and directed by Nicholas Tedeschi, reveals itself to be a highly contemporary, effective and cinematic O.-Henry-like tale – one which proves that if men want to collect the panties of their one-night stands, women can easily one-up them.
What the career of the man in this short film is (Beat Marti), like that of the woman (Katrin Bühring), is never revealed in 'Room 7', but in the opening sex scene occurring in an obvious if nondescript hotel room, the sex seems so spontaneous, so impulsive and unrehearsed – hell, they don't even get their clothes off – that the couple at play seems indeed to be a new one. And just how new is revealed shortly thereafter, when the man lets it drop that they've "only known each other half an hour".
But once the fun is over, things begin to take a decidedly less friendly tone: at first, a well-placed visual reference (with the bedside lamp) to 'Fatal Attraction' clues the viewer that the woman may have something more in mind than just casual sex, and then the man, "Kurt", feeling rejected by a strong woman who really does have no interest in anything other than a one-shot event, quickly reveals himself to be a huge jerk with a fragile ego. When they go their separate ways, that they shall never meet again seems to be a given...
There is no background music for most of the film; this, like the initial use of long unedited shots and close-ups, serves well to underscore the intimacy of the situation we are witnessing. Once the music kicks in, it effectively underscores the buildup of the culminating crosscuts to the ironic ending. An oddly claustrophobic film, 'Room 7' manages to juggle with the viewer's sympathy towards the two characters amazingly well, steering it from mild curiosity about two unknown people to an initial unease about the woman to identification with the man to total disgust in his misogynistic reaction and respect for her sovereign attitude onwards to a final indecisiveness regarding them both. This serves well to retain both the viewer's attention and a general curiosity about where the narrative is going...
If there is something to criticize about the film, it is that by the time it ends, 'Room 7' inadvertently makes the female protagonist much too interesting: unlike with the male, when it comes to the female, the viewer is very much left with the desire to know more about her, like where she comes from, what her motivations are, where they came from, and where they will take her in the long run.
But that would require a feature-length film, and that 'Room 7' is not. It has less than ten minutes (with credits) to offer its brief peek into the meeting of two strangers, and it uses them well. The narrative told therein, as written and directed by Nicholas Tedeschi, reveals itself to be a highly contemporary, effective and cinematic O.-Henry-like tale – one which proves that if men want to collect the panties of their one-night stands, women can easily one-up them.
