There's nothing like a little dark perversity on a Sunday morning.

If you're aware of the fact that 109 is the police code for suicide, then there's a pretty good shot that you have an idea of what to expect from writer/director Nathan Fisher's 109, a dark yet strangely vibrant comedy about Greg.

Greg is, um, rather strange. He's an obsessive-compulsive pervert who does everything nine times, decorates his home with what looks like magazine-ripped porno and seems to have more than a little trouble keeping his hands to himself. His latest incident in awkward social interaction occurs while he's on the way to the local seedy motel, a dive that makes your neighborhood Motel 6 look like the Hilton. In case you're wondering, yes, he lands himself in room 109.

Greg has arrived at this motel intent on exorcising his demons, an event that we're not so much privvy to other than watching the results of the effort unfold as two police detectives arrive on the scene to arrest him for the earlier incident.

109 is less concerned with a cohesive storyline and more concerned with the atmosphere in which everything occurs, an eclectic environment populated with lively, quirky music and D.P. Ron Coons' nicely captured camera work. The ensemble cast is uniformly strong, though there are times when 109 feels just a tad off in terms of pacing.

Greg is an intriguing character, a man whose entire existence seems to be defined by his quirks yet a man you'd likely find yourself strangely intrigued by if you passed by him on the street. It's not a difficult stretch to see his story continuing, especially in light of how Fisher and crew wrap up this weird little bit of short film insanity.

© Written by Richard Propes
The Independent Critic