Broken Castles: Implied Historical Trauma and Fresh Efforts to Outrun Them

Ginevra Gentili’s Broken Castles, written by Ryan Napier, follows the tug of war between two brothers and the opposing perspectives they cling to, living in an ancient castle which seems intent on keeping them both tied to it. There isn’t a whole lot of dialogue, replaced instead by the internal torment of younger brother Shiloh, the protagonist of the story. 

The narrative is driven by Shiloh’s (Kevin Manteaw) desperate desire to leave the place, something both the castle and his older brother, Ezra (Napier) are doing their most to prevent. At least for Ezra, that effort is a mix of cruelty and care. The castle is surrounded by an aura of gloom that feels truly inescapable. 

Reality is frequently intercut with something else, either imagined or historical (but the way the film feels, it could be both), and neither offers comfort of any kind. There is an underexplored aspect of the supernatural at play here, naturally combining with the apparent centuries of history and the ghosts they inevitably spawn. Given that the brothers do manual labour while being the only residents visible, they give the impression of incarcerated servants rather than owners. In hooded cloaks, they also conduct a ritual pledge to the place in the chapel, so proselytising it reeks of trauma. The longer it runs in an ever maddening loop, the easier and more frantic the viewer’s sympathy for Shiloh’s goal. Shot in 2.39:1 aspect ratio, the horizon looks endless and yet, utterly enveloped by whatever it is that has kept the castle upright and the brothers in them. The world over the parapet, however immense, may never be large enough and porous enough to let Shiloh pass. 

Broken Castles can be as simply received as it can be interpreted for complex, malevolent roots. Accompanied by a grand score that seems to only intensify a feeling of endlessness to the brothers’ bindings, the film is a desolate scape, beautifully constructed. 

Watch Broken Castles Short Film Trailer