Featured Review

MM Shorts – Contact Hours

Published

2 weeks ago

Apr 30, 2025

Darryl Griffiths

Director: Harry Richards

Starring: Kris Hitchen, George Osborne

Envelopes resting on a shelf, pleading for an ‘urgent response’. Sets of keys hanging up all numbered, almost like their owners are just a statistic. For many of us. Keeping our pesky anxieties and fears about life concealed or locked up, as not one to worryingly project it onto others is a daily battle. This stubborn internalising of emotion leaves you increasingly withdrawn from the world, that deep down you want to embrace with open arms, but the sheer weight of it can leave you wondering. Should I just shut my eyes from it?

Here. That battle properly began in my university years, with that very consideration crossing my mind all too frequently, as I struggled to efficiently articulate what was eating away at me. It took one crucial conversation over Facebook one late Tuesday night, to draw me back from the brink. For every person who has wrestled with similar, you only wish the same.

In such a formative time, where we are still developing a true sense of clarity in who we are and how we feel. It is so often taken for granted elsewhere, how heavy the burden of expectation or simply getting through the day can be on young shoulders. But in the most tragic of circumstances, the aftershock of what transpires for those in close proximity cannot be underestimated either.

Predominantly told through the eyes of Kris Hitchen’s university caretaker, as it handles its subject matter with sheer delicacy. Harry Richards and Rufus Love’s craft an essential short in ‘Contact Hours’, one that extracts hope from such darkness. Well into the night when our most intrusive thoughts can be wide awake. They are called out to a makeshift albeit tedious request from a student (Ashleigh-Mae Schoburgh-Crooks) whose straighteners have caused bother, with her slightly concerned but ultimately oblivious to the tangled emotions rooted in the room two doors down.

When prompted to ‘check in’, you can immediately sense his hesitation in addressing the situation, mirroring his stunted relationship at home with his son played by George Osborne. The distinct lack of dialogue between them a foreshadowing of what this caretaker is about to confront, prompting an abrupt yet vital re-evaluation in how they look to communicate.

Never graphic nor gratuitous, avoiding the harmful mistakes of how suicide has been handled on-screen before. Director Harry Richards displays a quiet intelligence in knowing when to draw its audience in or out of its difficult subject matter, in order to reflect. The piercing blue light flashing into room 319 from the outside, like a distress signal that discussions and support systems around mental health need to be handled far better. The steady ‘fade to black’ observing of the university halls corridor, like a heart that should still be beating. Richards’ sensitive observations sidestep being confrontational or melodramatic in setup, opting for a gradual, far more authentic spilling out of its characters’ feelings, that may just open the door for those watching who have long suffered in silence.

Such sensitivity and thought feeds into Rufus Love’s impeccable script too. Constantly second-guessing how appropriate our reach out is, weary of exacerbating how those close to you are feeling. The quiet alarm in discovering messages that jar with what you thought you knew someone was going through. Culminating in a dinner table sequence that is utterly believable and free of grand declarations, when taking those first steps in finding common ground. You truly feel in safe hands and in a safe space, with Richards’ and Love’s work here.

Tasked with carrying much of the emotional weight on his broad shoulders, as his sense of reality becomes distorted by the trauma he faces. Kris Hitchen’s performance is nothing short of superb, in conveying how jarring it is for him having such a job title, when he’s clearing finding it difficult to deliver a respectable level of care in this desperately sad scenario. George Osborne’s screen time may be more precious in comparison to Hitchen. But their initial inquisition behind the door as his dad breaks down, allowing for a proper heart-to-heart draws out such warmth and strength, as he bravely enlightens us about his own student experience.

Simply put, make immediate contact with ‘Contact Hours’. For every set of eyes that experience it. May that weight bearing down slowly decrease, significantly propelling much-needed conversations forward whilst ultimately saving further lives from being taken too soon.