The opening scene of BREATHE hit like a punch to the gut. I wasn't expecting the raw intensity of that moment, and it set the tone for the entire film. Brandon Butler's portrayal of Craig London is haunting from the get-go, but what really stayed with me was how Amber L. DeVos and Barry Piacente as Christa and Max London play off each other. You can feel the weight of their broken relationship suffocating their son, and it's hard to watch without feeling a pang of sadness for him.
There's something about the way the scene is shot the dim lighting, the claustrophobic feel of the room that draws you in immediately. Without giving too much away, it's the kind of opening that leaves you with more questions than answers, which is exactly why it works. You're not just watching a family fall apart; you're seeing the first cracks that will ripple through the entire movie. It's emotionally charged without being melodramatic, and I found myself thinking about that moment throughout the rest of the film.
What makes this opening so effective is that it doesn't rely on flashy visuals or loud drama. It's the quiet moments-the glance between parents, the silent confusion of their child-that sets the stage for everything that follows. In just a few minutes, we are introduced to themes of addiction, trauma, and broken relationships that will carry the film forward, all through the lens of a single family's tragedy.
This scene perfectly encapsulates what BREATHE does so well throughout the movie: it shows rather than tells. You're not spoon-fed the characters' backstories, but you can feel their history in every look, every interaction. It's a testament to the film's ability to create an emotional connection with the audience right from the start, leaving you eager to see where the story will take you.