Adjunct is a tight, heartfelt dramedy that manages to do what so many indie films strive for but rarely achieve: tell a personal story with professional polish and emotional honesty.
Written, directed, and performed by Ron Najor, the film centers on a Middle Eastern American writer-turned-adjunct professor navigating the institutional instability of modern academia. The story tracks his slow realization that he is expendable to the very system he once admired, while juggling other jobs-rideshare driver, liquor store clerk-and trying to maintain dignity and direction.
What stands out immediately is the craftsmanship. The sound design and original score are exceptional for a film at this level-elegant, effective, and never intrusive. Likewise, the color grade and cinematography elevate the entire project, giving it a rich, cinematic texture that many microbudget features lack. You can tell from the first frame that Najor knows what he's doing as a director.
The writing walks a fine line between comedy and drama, and Najor handles both tones with nuance. His performance is understated and human, grounding the film in emotional truth without ever veering into melodrama or self-indulgence. It's also worth noting how rare and impressive it is for someone to successfully write, direct, and act in their own feature-especially one that doesn't feel bloated or distracted. Adjunct knows its lane and stays there with discipline.
The film is also an effective critique of the adjunctification of higher education-how institutions increasingly rely on underpaid, under-supported part-time faculty while pretending to uphold values of mentorship and learning. It's a timely theme that the film explores without preaching, always rooting its perspective in the personal.
The supporting cast shines as well. The students feel real and distinct, and the female lead delivers a grounded, honest performance that adds layers to the story. I appreciated the authentic depiction of a Middle Eastern American family, and the many ways Najor shows the struggle of piecing together a life through multiple jobs. These moments never feel forced or played for pity-they're simply part of the lived experience of a character trying to hold onto his identity in a system that keeps asking him to compromise it.
And then there's San Diego. The film makes great use of the city-not just its beauty, but its textures. It's not the glossy, postcard version of San Diego, but a lived-in portrait of a city that quietly mirrors the lead's own internal push-pull between comfort and friction.
Ultimately, Adjunct is for viewers who appreciate character-driven stories about people on the margins-quiet strivers doing their best to find meaning, connection, and a sense of control. It's a personal story, but it resonates with anyone who's ever felt replaceable in a system that once promised them more.
