“A very delicate coming-of-age film in which science fiction, the logic of dreams, and poetic cinema meet.”

With so many films created every year, being original is not easy at all. Yet some people do such a wonderful job, sometimes even in their debut feature, that it is undoubtedly worthy of praise. Lucila Mariani’s The Days Off is truly such a work. A film that begins with a deep silence; the first thing we are introduced to is not a big event, but a feeling. The feeling of loneliness, uncertainty, and longing of a 12-year-old girl to escape from a reality that is growing increasingly harsh.

At the start of the film Bego — the central character of this story — connects with a mysterious online companion named REN__, who is guiding her through an unfamiliar process. At first we might not understand the whole thing, as Mariani does not offer any conventional explanations here. But at the same time, she does not leave the audience completely in the dark. Instead, even before we fully understand, a feeling starts working inside us — a feeling of waiting, loneliness, and an attraction to the unknown.

​Then, Bego plays some music.

​Through this music, Mariani slowly brings us into Bego’s world. We experience seemingly ordinary scenes, but hidden inside them is a kind of melancholy — a poster of a lost dog, two chairs placed as if they are in a silent conversation with each other. Bego’s surrounding world is filled with absences — lost things, incomplete conversations, and relationships that perhaps survive only inside the imagination.

​At the center of The Days Off is the idea of ‘shifting’. In the film, REN__ explains this concept as follows: “Shifting is to access other existing parallel realities and to modify what we know as reality.” But Mariani does not use shifting merely as a science fiction concept. Instead, she transforms it into a deep metaphor for adolescence. The desire to enter another reality is not just an urge to run away from the present; it is the search for a place where people can truly find themselves. What we call the ‘desired reality’. ​In the process of shifting, a person has to enter the state between sleep and wakefulness — known as the hypnagogic state. At this moment, consciousness slowly fades away and imagination feels almost like reality. This middle ground between the two worlds becomes the perfect reflection of Bego’s existence. She too seems to stand right between two worlds — on one side is the reality she inherited, and on the other is the world she wants to create for herself.

​Perhaps the most important symbol in the film is a solar eclipse. Scientifically, an eclipse happens when the moon comes between the sun and the earth, temporarily blocking the sun’s light. But Mariani does not show this merely as a natural event; rather, she highlights a different kind of isolation, a new possibility of seeing reality. ​The eclipse also builds a deep connection with Bego’s own journey. Something seems to step right between her and her usual world. Familiar things turn unfamiliar, and the boundaries between reality and imagination slowly blur. Mariani understands that adolescence itself is a kind of eclipse — a moment when the light of certainty is temporarily hidden, and a person stands facing a strange, mysterious darkness.

​The Days Off is a very sensitive and controlled work. One of the film’s greatest strengths is its wonderful use of dissolve shots. These transitions are not just for aesthetic beauty; they are directly connected to the film’s core theme. One scene slowly melts into another, just the way memories, dreams, desires, and reality blend into one another. Here, the dissolve becomes a bridge between two worlds.

​The film’s use of color is also especially noteworthy. The way Mariani creates a distinction between Bego’s current reality and her desired reality is deeply fascinating. Color here does not merely enhance the beauty of the scene; it creates separate zones of emotion. The difference between reality and imagination is expressed not through dialogue, but through the texture and colors of the scenes. The film reminds us that color itself is a language, one that can carry the depth of longing.

​The most beautiful aspect of The Days Off is that it never judges Bego’s desire to escape. Mariani moves forward with a kind of tenderness toward her imagination. In a world full of so much uncertainty and emotional disconnection, dreaming of another reality is not some childish denial. Instead, it becomes a way of surviving — an attempt to find meaning in a world that cannot always hold our feelings. ​Mariani has created a very delicate coming-of-age film in which science fiction, the logic of dreams, and poetic cinema meet. Her film is a story that perhaps lives inside each of us — the story of those private worlds we create when reality fails to fully hold our hopes, fears, and desires. As a debut feature, The Days Off is truly wonderful, a hum that keeps ringing inside our heads, even long after the film ends.