Have you ever driven home drunk? I don’t necessarily mean hammered, but maybe after a relaxing dinner with your old school friends, catching up over food and drinks, you find yourself stumbling off the pavement, your key struggling to find the ignition although you have had the same car for years, debating whether you should get a cab but the voice of ‘reason’ telling you that it’s fine, that you will have to pick your car up before work tomorrow morning and who needs that hassle, anyway, you are a perfectly fine driver and a little wine isn’t going to change that. Right? In his first solo directorial feature film, Keith Albert Tedesco politely, and convincingly, disagrees.

At the centre of this modern Aesopian fable is John (Kim Camenzuli), the one-note over-laboured university student who dreams of opening a start-up in five years. On duty as a barman, he watches his friends and girlfriend Sophie (Michela Farrugia) enjoy their night drinking, the group teaching a foreign student the various uses of mela and uwijja.

They chat casually, smoothly transitioning between Maltese and English as the conversation flows, and I’m already hooked. Funny and fluent, there is an honesty to their simple interactions; school mates celebrating the week as they complain about still having to live with their parents.

As likeable as the eclectic group may be, with George’s (Rambert Attard) sarcastic quips driving most of the laughs but not all, their presence quickly turns to steam once Tedesco begins his cinematic public service announcement.

Refocusing the lens back onto John, he leaves his shift sleep-deprived, driving home, his eyes barely staying open until they don’t, his car swerving into oncoming traffic. But before anything can happen, the film flashes back and begins to tell the story of how John ended up in that car, rubbing his face to stay awake. Did John survive? Did anyone else get hurt? Where is this film going to go?

The answer is at the end of a seemingly endless trudge through uninteresting exposition. The group of friends that once enticed me are now gone, replaced by John and Sophie’s unromantic relationship and many scenes between John and his parents, their relationship also falling short of the mark as John lacks any meaningful chemistry. Yet, whenever John isn’t there, the supporting cast begin to shine.

Clare Agius and Chris Dingli as John’s parents are hilarious, their bickering love light-hearted and candid; they embody the parental Maltese culture so well that it is difficult to not fall in love with them, especially Agius as she shows just how far her emotional range can go.

I was worried that this was going to be an hour-and-a-half-long PSA

Anthony Mizzi’s drunken Joe is charismatic and goofy, his alcoholic performance carrying a lot more nuance than the sullen sleep-deprived John ever did – Camenzuli isn’t forever burdened with rigidity, but his own notable solitary moments are rarely left untarnished. The star of the show is Sophie, Farrugia’s brilliance emphasised in her moments of peace, her introspective stare searching for an answer that will never come.

The supporting cast may be refreshing but they are still products of the camera. When romance floods the scene, the shot remains wide and rarely conveys intimacy, choosing to show several long and awkward physical moments that say nothing more than the assumed fact that this adult couple do the dirty deed, regardless of the non-existent energy Camenzuli and Farrugia are so clearly trying to create.

The effect is cringy and alienating and, unfortunately, not the only time it’s felt: the most dizzying experience of all is Sophie’s fourth wall break, staring into the camera and declaring that Maltese films aren’t in Maltese cinemas. I wonder if the unneeded gag will be cut when shown abroad.

Michela Farrugia’s silent stare is serene and unreserved.

But for every misstep there is an aggravating beauty. The days tend to look flat and muted while the nights are moody and vibrant with controlled colours; the editing may find itself at odds with the irksome soundtrack, yet several smash cuts create explosive impacts in the mundane story; the plot may be next to non-existent as intrigue slowly turns into disinterest, but the casual interactions are incredibly exciting, building up the characters for… nothing.

All this time caring about John and his failing academic career, caring about Sophie and her souring relationship with John, George and the rest of the funny gang from the bar, John’s parents and their genuine and wholesome marriage; what was it all for? No one grows nor changes, instead they drag their feet towards a climax that never comes.

I was worried that this was going to be an hour-and-a-half-long PSA, but the first half proved me wrong as it instantly drew me into their lives. By the time the credits rolled, I was unfortunately proven right – an entire film filled with potential just to end on a bland billboard message: don’t drink and drive.