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One Day This Kid

MOVIE REVIEW
One Day This Kid

     

Genre: Drama
Year Released: 2025
Runtime: 18m
Director(s): Alexander Farah
Writer(s): Alexander Farah
Cast: Elyas Rahimi, Mahan Mohammadinasab, Massey Ahmar, Aydin Malakooti, Mostafa Shaker
Language: Dari, Farsi, and English with English subtitles
Where To Watch: shown at the 2025 SXSW Film Festival (Grand Jury Prize for Best Narrative Short)


RAVING REVIEW: ONE DAY THIS KID doesn’t just tell a story—it gives you the sense that you’ve been allowed to overhear something rarely said out loud. There’s an unassuming boldness in how it moves, scene by scene, not trying to strike but instead asking you to reflect, to remember, and maybe even to see yourself differently. It’s not concerned with checking boxes or fitting into the usual dramatics—it’s focused on truth, the quiet kind often ignored in favor of something more polished. And that truth hits hard.


There’s something special about a director pulling from personal history without turning the project into a therapy session. Alexander Farah walks that line, crafting a short film that feels emotionally precise without ever becoming self-indulgent. Inspired by David Wojnarowicz’s 1990 text-photo piece, the film adapts that source material without copying it, using it as a launchpad to speak to something deeply internal. The result is part portrait, part confession, and entirely sincere.

The film uses a mosaic-like structure rather than following a traditional plot arc. We watch the character of Hamed portrayed at different life stages. Instead of being led through a chain of events, we’re handed glimpses—memories, moments, and emotional turning points. It’s like watching a life take shape in snapshots. Some scenes unfold quietly, but none feel wasted. This is storytelling by suggestion, not explanation.

The casting decision to include real-life family members enhances that sense of honesty. Elyas Rahimi plays young Hamed, with his sister Tahera and mother Roohafza rounding out the family. These aren’t overly rehearsed performances; they feel lived-in, captured rather than constructed. As the adult Hamed, Massey Ahmar brings a weight that sits just under the surface—never melodramatic, never overly restrained. He plays a man who has spent years quietly negotiating with himself, and it shows in every glance.

From a visual standpoint, Farhad Ghaderi's cinematography is restrained in the best way. There’s an unspoken confidence in how the camera lingers or chooses not to follow conventional framing.

Farah’s direction doesn’t lean on heightened drama or sweeping dialogue. Instead, he allows space for discomfort and contemplation. The power of the story comes not from explosive confrontations but from the silence between characters, the pause before a question is asked, and the tension that builds when nothing is being said.

What’s truly refreshing here is the refusal to generalize the experience. ONE DAY THIS KID isn’t trying to universalize queerness or immigrant identity—it embraces the specifics. This story exists at the intersection of cultural expectations, generational silence, and the quiet assertion of identity. That particularity is what gives it resonance. It’s not just about representation; it’s about recognition.

Winning the Grand Jury Prize for Best Narrative Short at the 2025 SXSW Film Festival wasn’t just a matter of industry recognition but an acknowledgment that this kind of storytelling matters. It’s worth noting that this film is not riding the coattails of trends or movements. It stands independently, grounded in something real, and crafted with care.

What makes this short particularly effective is how unforced it feels. It doesn't overstate its themes, nor does it downplay their complexity. The film trusts its audience. It asks you to sit uncomfortably, engage with what’s not being said, and connect dots without a guide. That level of trust is rare, and when it works, like it does here, it leaves a lasting impression.

It’s the kind of short that lingers in the back of your mind long after!. Not because of what it shows but because of what it asks you to consider. For those willing to meet it where it stands, it offers something rare—a look at the quiet courage it takes to speak, exist, and be seen.

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[photo courtesy of BOLDLY, NIMRUZ, SECTION 80, TEMPOMEDIA-FILMPRODUKTION, WALLOP FILM]

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Chris Jones
Entertainment Editor

Chris Jones, from Washington, Illinois, is the Mail Entertainment Editor covering Movies, Television, Books, and Music topics. He is the owner, writer, and editor of Overly Honest Reviews.