Short Film Review: ‘Them That’s Not’ – Blood, Absence, and Regret in Estranged Love

What hits you first about ‘Them That’s Not‘ directed by Mekhai Lee isn’t the dialogue; it’s the sound. Or rather, how it is used to advance the narrative.

The film wastes no time letting you know that we are experiencing the world of the film’s lead, Drea’s terms. Sound dips out, rings, fades, like ears struggling to decode a room full of voices. It’s bold, confident filmmaking, using audio not as atmosphere but as a point of view.

In that world stands Drea (played by Angel Theory). She is tough, or at least she tries to be. You can see her swallowing pain, forcing herself into stillness. The family around her laughs, chats, and moves like a unit. She floats on the edges, trying hard not to let anyone see how deeply she feels the distance between them and her. She’s deaf, queer, and artistic, and yet everything feels like her family does not seem willing to meet her halfway. They don’t sign, so their communication isn’t just broken; it feels missing. But Drea is still present at this family gathering, which is in memory of her grandmother.

Samuel (played by Biko Eisen-Martin) is brought in, accompanied by a warden. This slowly reveals the film’s actual plot. A prison furlough has allowed an estranged father to see his and his distant daughter Drea.

Samuel enters like a quiet weight present, observant, impossible to ignore. No one explains who he is at first. But from the way he watches Drea, you know. Not verbally, but you can almost sense the emotional connection. You can feel the words lodged in his throat, unsaid because he doesn’t know where to begin, or maybe because he knows time is short. The reveal that he is her father, incarcerated for two decades and only released for a single furlough to say goodbye to his mother, reframes everything. Suddenly, this isn’t just grief; it’s unfinished business.

Their estrangement is the soul of the film. You see a young woman who has spent years learning how to not need someone she secretly needed anyway. You see a father full of remorse, regret, and longing that he can’t voice. Drea avoids him, almost with precision. It’s easier to pretend you don’t care than to admit that you do. But in the small glances, the tightened jaw, the avoided eye contact, you know exactly what sits under her silence. She misses him but maybe resents him for it as well.

The performance is layered well. Angel Theory hides her hurt like someone protecting a bruise. Yet every frame betrays her. Her eyes threaten to give her away. She is hurting, she is hardened, she is breakable.

What supports all this emotional work is the visual and sonic choices of the film. The brownstone that is set in feels warm, familiar and lived in. The kind of house where generations have laughed and argued and eaten and mourned. The lighting is warm, almost nostalgic. Even during a repass, the home feels safe for everyone except the person who needs it most.

The camera often stays with Drea, framing her perspective as she studies lips or hands, trying to understand conversations she is technically present for but excluded from. It’s intimate, immersive, and deeply effective. The sound design then completes the circuit, drowning out dialogue, ringing in the ears, letting silence spread until you’re sitting inside her isolation with her.

Mekhai Lee directs with restraint and honesty. He doesn’t force reconciliation. He lets it hover, like a possibility both fragile and necessary. And that restraint is what makes the film work. The emotion is not declared; it is felt.

‘Them That’s Not‘ isn’t loud, but it is powerful. I will score it 4 out of 5 stars. It’s a story about absence, longing, and the uncomfortable work of facing someone you thought you had learned to live without.