Overview
Fran likes to think about dying. It brings sensation to her quiet life. When she makes the new guy at work laugh, it leads to more: a date, a slice of pie, a conversation, a spark. The only thing standing in their way is Fran herself.
Fran, played by Daisy Ridley, is a painfully introverted worker in an office environment who starts to connect with a newcomer to the office, all the while her own social awkwardness building walls to prevent her from getting too close, in this lightly comedic drama from Rachel Lambert. Surrounded by other workers who are more than comfortable with the typical social small talk engagements that go on in life, no matter how otherwise embarrassing most of that chatter would be, Fran’s life in her cubicle is one of silence and as little human engagement as she can manage, instead spending her time pawing over spreadsheets and daydreaming of isolation through death. She isn’t actively depressed or suicidal, she just longs for the isolated solitude of being dead in a forest or on a piece of flitsam on a beach somewhere, where nobody can find her. But the entering presence of Dave Merheje as Robert threatens to draw Fran out of herself for the first time, and starts her struggle with being comfortable with herself enough to be comfortable with another person.
Anyone who has degrees of social anxieties and awkwardness will absolutely identify with Fran here, and those who have no personal experience of it will hopefully see from this film that those who seem “weird and quiet” are not deliberately distant – they just don’t know what to say and somewhat overthink things too much in fear of ridicule. This is demonstrated early on in the film when Fran is asked to write something in the card of a co-worker who is leaving, scanning over the passages and witty messages made by others, contemplating what to add, before writing a simple, “Happy Retirement” instead. The sentiment is right, but the fear of saying the wrong thing forces Fran to take the safe option.
Ridley is a marvel here, and without much dialogue (indeed, for around the first 20 minutes she doesn’t utter one word, as those around her chatter incessantly about trivial things), drawing us into the essence of who Fran is. There is no malice, no hatred of the world around her, just simple awkwardness that makes her remain in her comfort zone of silence. It is only when she unexpectedly connects with Robert, initially via office desktop chat exchanges about ordering supplies, that Fran starts to open up, although she struggles with knowing what to open up about that would sound interesting. It is a wonderfully melancholic approach that is complimented by the visual approach of the filmmaking, with some shots being majorly off center in the framing, the pair of characters pushed to the lower corner of the screen, with barely anything of interest dominating the frame – itself capturing the isolated nature of introverts, asking you to look away from them as they stumble to fit in. It’s a smart visual choice that really connects with the essence of who Fran is.
Charming, melancholic, sometimes witty, and absolutely relatable to many of us, Sometimes I Think About Dying shines a spotlight on what it means to be introverted and the fight to be allowed to not have to engage in smalltalk, with a central performance that shows that Ridley is a much better actor than the toxic fandom online want to believe.