Jamie Grefe’s Divorced is not just a film about the unraveling of a marriage—it’s an intimate plunge into the fragility of human connection and the chaos that follows when love slips away. Written, directed, and starring Grefe himself as Peter, the film places viewers directly inside the fractured psyche of a man grappling with the loss of stability, intimacy, and identity.
The story follows Peter and Nancy (Nubia Paz), a couple confronting the brutal reality of their impending separation. What begins as a straightforward domestic drama gradually evolves into something more dreamlike, even unsettling. Through a fragmented narrative and haunting imagery, Divorced captures the way grief bends time and perception, leaving Peter caught between reality, memory, and imagination.
Cinematographer Kevin Stevenson (Babygirl) deserves special mention. His lens paints Los Angeles in muted tones, evoking both warmth and suffocating melancholy. Whether through stark interiors or fleeting outdoor sequences, Stevenson’s photography underscores the alienation at the heart of Peter’s unraveling. The imagery is frequently claustrophobic, matching the film’s themes of emotional suffocation.
Performances across the board lean into naturalism, with Nubia Paz delivering a grounded presence as Nancy—the anchor Peter is losing—and Olya Aman, Bryan Brewer, and Chris Spinelli each offering strong support in roles that deepen Peter’s descent into confusion. Grefe himself portrays Peter with raw vulnerability, balancing quiet despair with explosive bursts of anguish.
What makes Divorced resonate is its refusal to sensationalize. Instead, it offers a kind of cinematic catharsis, exploring how loss destabilizes not just relationships, but one’s entire sense of meaning. Produced by Gregory Hatanaka (Samurai Cop 2), the film remains small in scale but ambitious in its emotional reach.
At times, its abstract flourishes risk alienating viewers expecting a more conventional drama. Yet, for those willing to surrender to its meditative rhythm, Divorced rewards with a deeply human story—one that suggests that the real horror isn’t in monsters or violence, but in watching love fade and realizing that nothing will ever be the same again.
Verdict: A quiet, bruising, and contemplative work, Divorced lingers long after the credits roll.
Jessie Hobson