In Two Shots Fired, Martín Rejtman delivers a film that leaves viewers in a state of ambiguity, largely due to the flat, emotionless performances of the cast. This deliberate choice seems to capture a modern malaise-a hesitancy, or perhaps apathy, in forging deep connections with others or even with oneself. Characters seem to hover on the surface of their own lives, like Mariano, whose involvement in a flute group and his self-inflicted gunshots are symbolic of an unwillingness to confront inner turmoil.
The film's narrative unfolds with a sense of detachment, evident in the casual relationships and unresolved interactions, such as the one between Mariano's brother and his fleeting girlfriend. Rejtman paints a portrait of characters drifting in an atmosphere of inertia, where impromptu seaside trips and friendships reveal more about their reluctance to engage deeply than their intentions. This restraint-artfully captured through the film's polished cinematography and subdued dialogue-both intrigues and unsettles, leaving viewers with a sense of quiet incompleteness.