Convulsion (2023) is an audacious dive into existential sci-fi that, despite its low-budget streaming origins, manages to grip with both intensity and style. Gregory Hatanaka, working from Jamie Grefe’s script, crafts a narrative that is as enigmatic as it is unsettling, blending the mundane with the metaphysical. At its core, the film follows Ethan (Leonard Zhang), a man whose life is upended by uncontrollable seizures stemming from a mysterious extraterrestrial encounter. His journey toward alternative treatment, guided by his concerned husband Scott (Jose Adam Alvarez), unfolds into a meditation on identity, fate, and human fragility.
One of the film’s strongest assets is its atmospheric design. Hatanaka cleverly uses the confined spaces of an Airbnb to create a sense of isolation and tension, evoking cinematic parallels to Apichatpong Weerasethakul, Tsai Ming-Liang, and Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s later works. The soundtrack, punctuated by J-Pop and K-Pop, immediately establishes a dissonant, otherworldly mood that complements Ethan’s internal chaos. The seizures themselves are portrayed with visceral intensity, and the film doesn’t shy away from the emotional toll on both Ethan and Scott, grounding the sci-fi elements in real human stakes.
The performances are compelling. Zhang embodies Ethan’s vulnerability and growing detachment with nuance, while Alvarez provides a grounded counterpoint as Scott, balancing concern with an earnest determination to save his husband. Lisa London, though brief in her role, leaves a lasting impression, highlighting the film’s knack for memorable supporting characters.
However, Convulsion is not without its flaws. The dialogue can feel awkward and stilted at times, which occasionally disrupts the narrative flow. The script struggles with cohesion, and the film’s ambition sometimes outpaces its clarity, making it a challenging watch for viewers who prefer more structured storytelling. Still, the twists and layered reveals reward patient audiences, offering moments of genuine intrigue and existential reflection.
Overall, Convulsion is a daring and underrated entry in modern indie sci-fi. While its uneven script and occasional dialogue issues may frustrate some, its performances, atmosphere, and willingness to explore the unknown make it a memorable and thought-provoking experience. For fans of boundary-pushing storytelling, Hatanaka and Grefe deliver something rare—a low-budget gem that lingers long after the final convulsion fades.
Jessie Hobson