Deniz Michael's debut film, Solitary Fracture, may just be the best amateur film I've seen and the first step in the career of a filmmaker who has something to say and is certainly not afraid to say it.  This is not to ignore the films excesses and the sometimes overbearing dialogue that should more often be expressed on the screen, rather than spouted from the character's mouth, but the intensity and sincerity of Michael's vision more than makes up for its missteps.   The frustration and angst of the American 20-something is far from a daring or original topic, but by avoiding the irony and clichés that often mar other films of its kind, Solitary Fracture is effective portrait of the nightmarish downward spiral of its protagonist who becomes increasingly disconnected with the indifferent world that surrounds him.  Not only has Michael written, directed, edited, and composed the music for the film, he is also the star and the only person to ever appear on screen.  This risky move, which easily could have reeked of pretension, ends up working in its favor.  The completely insular world, aided by the constant presence of only a single person, evokes strong feelings of isolation and disconnect from those around him and the voices heard off-screen, mostly of his overbearing landlord, stress the disconnect that leads to his ultimate unwinding.

Shot in gritty black-and-white, the look and feel of the film are in tune with the character's mental breakdown.  The physical change throughout the film is a testament to Michael's perseverance and dedication, though his attempts at realism sometimes verge on grotesque (vomiting and nude shots are found several times in the short running time) and seem to exist only to shock, rather than engage, his audience.  The numerous monologues become tiresome and repetitive at times, but often work to bring us closer to the protagonist and understand the roots of his psychosis.  In a stretch of just over 70 minutes, Michael manages to provoke, challenge, and shock his audience as well as test their patience and willingness to follow him into the abyss of malaise and anger that he portrays.  As an intensely personal film, Solitary Fracture works by (forcibly at times) engaging the audience emotionally, but falls short in taking them very far with it.  Its singular vision of pure emotion is both its greatest strength and its downfall, but with the meager budget and time constraints the director was working with, it provides enough evidence to see that Michael has the talent to make even better films in the future.