Just like his Seoul Stories series, Rizzo tests new waters in his first feature that sees the director swivel the camera onto himself – a dizzying act that loses his charmed focus mid-spin.

Two stars for 'Night Owl'

Have you ever seen Seoul Stories? Until recently, I had not even heard of Franco Rizzo’s web series as the Maltese-made Korea-set collection of short films missed my radar.

But thankfully, that led to a binge, one that saw me rip through the anthology with a hunger as I consumed each episode in distinct succession; one after another, I grew fonder of Rizzo’s penmanship as each vignette centred around its subject. The camera language harmoniously changed with it, yet Rizzo’s signature was always there in his photographic framing, in his shifting structures.

And so, I was excited to watch Night Owl – a project within the Seoul Stories umbrella but 50 minutes in length instead of Rizzo’s single-digit tendency. This time, Rizzo has focused the lens on himself as he shares the experience of an expat who doesn’t want to go home but, unfortunately, he also loses himself along the way.

The film follows in Fellini’s footsteps: Franco (playing himself) is a film-maker returning to Malta after three years in Seoul, grappling with his failure to make a film. There are also its clear Lost in Translation parallels as he tries to figure out his place in the world.

Both are enjoyable, yet there is an evident lack of temperament as Franco tunnel-visions onto his inspirations.

Sofia Coppola turned Tokyo into a character while Rizzo’s Seoul is empty and lifeless. Fellini told a visioned chaos through meticulous images while here, the camera rigidly points at overdrawn, overdone and spoon-fed soliloquies.

To say the film is ‘unenjoyable’ is a harsh and unjust oversimplification. Rather, it is a square trying to be a circle as Franco forces himself to fit within a narrative structure that, as it unfolds, is impassioned and delicately thought. Franco, the character, is lost in a cultural identity fog as the unsuccessful film-maker complains about his Maltese compatriots for being lazy complainers (an irony which, if you have not figured out, Rizzo will ensure that you do).

To say the film is ‘unenjoyable’ is a harsh and unjust oversimplification

When he speaks to his friend in Malta, the country is beautiful as jackhammers noise the scene from beyond the frame. Some may find that as an afterthought yet there is a purpose behind it. Just like his own inner hypocrisies, the camera is at odds with itself.

When a character’s photograph-still mid-shot outstays its welcome, Rizzo tries to capture a claustrophobic anxiety so when the camera does come off the tripod, the result has the potential to be an empathetic explosion. When they verbalise their inner monologues, he strives to tell a sprawling story with no room to stretch.

And with each attempt, Rizzo pays in personality as every sentiment that propelled me through the story is accompanied by an emotional disconnect that won’t stop itching.

Seoul Stories dazzled me with a tin of experimental treats, each one with their own flavour and wrapper but all under the same brand. Night Owl belongs in the same box as another experiment among the many, but the flawed and often a bit too chewy sweet won’t see it climb above its exploratory station.

Yet, just as Franco fights to find himself, Rizzo may be able to figure out what promising project this closed chapter will take him to.