The Film is a fevered roleplay, moving through holes, portals, glitches, and feedback loops, territories where characters no longer feels stable or contained, but porous, rewired, and endlessly rewritten beneath the pressures of late capitalism. Here, the body is not a character but a system under strain: a performance that keeps performing even after it breaks.

Rather than offering a story, the film drifts through avatars, alter-egos, and half-formed personae that flicker like corrupted files. Each figure straining to remain coherent, to hold a shape long enough to be recognizable, even as the world around them demands constant mutation. Their bodies operate as interfaces; their voices feel hand-me-down; their gestures loop back on themselves with the precision of an algorithm learning and unlearning its own mistakes.

The boundary between sincerity and spectacle collapses almost instantly. Every emotion seems already preformatted, every revelation wired for extraction, every desire caught inside a market that feeds on attention. In this world, transformation looks nothing like freedom. It is maintenance, upkeep, the grim choreography of staying visible. The figures move through digital ruins and capitalist ecstasies, adapting until adaptation becomes indistinguishable from depletion. Their performances hover between confession and collapse.

What emerges is a strange eroticism of disappearance, a soft pull toward erasure. The film lingers on the pleasure of losing shape, of slipping beneath the gaze that demands legibility, of refusing to produce anything, meaning, clarity, form, for a moment longer. It is a work fascinated by the tender edges of dissolution, by the relief that comes when the pressure to articulate oneself finally cracks and falls away.

As these avatars continue to split, merge, and disintegrate, the film begins to fold in on itself. Environments blur into bodies, bodies melt into signals, and language spills into noise. What feels at first like fragmentation becomes a kind of quiet hum, an exhausted unity formed from everything that can’t be sustained.

The film ends not with a conclusion but with a loosening: a slow drift into imagelessness, a thinning of presence, a gentle refusal to resolve.

THE MISSION IS THE END, THE END IS ALL I WANT

A film by Bassam Issa Al-Sabah

Sound design – Jack Colleran

Voice Acting – Sian Ní Mhuirí and Sam Monaghan

Title Designs – Jennifer Mehigan