Desert Inn

LA Shorts 2025 - honestly, it surprised me-in a good way. It's a short film (like 8 minutes long), but it feels really complete. The story is simple: an old-school guy who hates technology checks into a smart hotel in the middle of the desert. The younger hotel staff wants to help, but things get tense fast. That's all I'll say to avoid spoilers, but the mood is kind of funny and kind of uncomfortable at the same time.

The first thing that stood out to me was how it looked. The cinematography is super clean and atmospheric. You can really feel the heat and isolation outside, and then inside the hotel, it's all cold and modern and almost sterile. That contrast helps sell the story a lot. I read that the director (Yuanhao Zhang) also did the cinematography, which is pretty impressive. The visuals do a lot of the storytelling-there's not a ton of dialogue, but you can always tell what's going on just from how the shots are framed or how the lighting changes.

The two actors were great too. The older guy (Arthur) comes off as stubborn and kinda scary but also weirdly likable. The younger guy is just trying his best, which makes the situation even more awkward. Their energy together works well and keeps you on edge.

If I had to nitpick, the story doesn't go super deep-it's more of a small moment or a slice of life than a full arc. But honestly, for a short film, that's totally fine. It leaves you thinking, and that's what matters.

In Desert Inn, the narrative is spare-almost deliberately so. But what lingers is not the plot; it's the image. This is a film built on tension, yes-but more interestingly, it's built on texture. The dust of the desert. The silence of an automatic hallway. The stillness of two men divided not just by age, but by aesthetic worlds.

Visually, the film is a masterclass in controlled contrast. The cinematography, by Yuanhao Zhang, who also directed, is restrained and elegant. There's a deep respect here for natural light-especially in the exteriors, where the soft evening sun reveals the grain and warmth of the desert landscape. The camera often keeps its distance, letting the environment speak. These wide shots create a kind of quiet hostility-nothing overt, but undeniably present.

Inside the hotel, everything shifts. The production designer made everything become clinical-pared down, angular, almost hostile in its cleanliness. Blue-white LED light dominates. The lines are straight, the color palette is bold. However there's no clutter, no chaos-only control. The result is a space that feels less like shelter and more like surveillance.

That contrast-the wild, sun-warmed exterior versus the cold, curated interior-is not just beautiful. It's thematic. Arthur, the older character, belongs to the world outside. Jim, the young hotel staff, belongs to the inside. The spaces they occupy reflect their roles without a single word needing to say so.

The film's greatest strength is its trust in visual language. It never oversells. There's no aggressive editing or flashy shots. It's quiet cinema-measured, composed, and sharply observed. It leaves room for the viewer to feel, instead of telling them what to think.

If the story feels minimal, that may be the point. What happens is less important than how it looks and how it feels. And in those areas, Desert Inn succeeds with remarkable clarity.

Standout elements:

• Delicate, expressive use of natural light
• Tense, minimalist production design that doubles as metaphor
• Visual storytelling that rewards attention

Desert Inn is a short film that doesn't shout, but it doesn't need to. It sees clearly, frames with purpose, and leaves behind images that stay long after the credits fade.