What begins as a modern-day situationship quickly unravels into something raw and more devastating, revealing the fragile boundary between love, obsession, and emotional survival.
With a bouncer and bartender at its center, Waverly strips down the idealism of romance and lays bare the ache of unrequited devotion in a world where ambition and class quietly dictate the rules. Blending romantic drama with psychological realism and a hint of social critique, the film explores what happens when love is not only unbalanced but also weaponized. Co-directed by Marie-Pier Diamond and Gilles Plouffe and written by Christos Skentos, Waverly is as intimate as it is uncomfortable, offering a brief but emotionally potent snapshot of two people bound together by longing and circumstance rather than mutual care.
The film follows Max and Jenna, coworkers whose emotional dynamic is complicated from the start. Max, played with aching vulnerability by Christos Skentos, is hopelessly in love with Jenna, so much so that he confuses proximity for possibility. His performance is heartbreaking in its quiet desperation. Max isn’t your typical romantic lead. He’s emotionally volatile, overly invested, and dangerously committed to someone who doesn’t want him. His portrayal captures that specific, painful space between devotion and delusion.
Jenna, portrayed by Romy Victory, is focused on escaping her current reality and sees upward mobility as her only salvation. Her affections lie with the men who have what Max does not: money, power, and social capital. This tension creates a power imbalance that drives the entire story. She plays Jenna with a believable detachment. Her character doesn’t villainize the pursuit of security, but she makes it clear: Max is not part of the dream she’s chasing. The dynamic between them never feels romantic, which is exactly the point.
The lighting is moody and dim, fitting for the bar setting that serves as both a meeting point and a battleground. Fleeting moments of tenderness are undercut by quiet despair, and the soundtrack leans into ambient tones and low, pulsating rhythms that mirror Max’s growing emotional instability. The film’s brevity doesn’t dull its emotional punch; if anything, the short runtime forces every glance and gesture to carry weight.
Waverly doesn’t glorify the “friend zone” or attempt to redeem unbalanced relationships. Instead, it challenges romantic tropes by showing how easily emotional attachment can cross into obsession. There’s a darkness to the story, especially in its closing moments, that subverts the expectations of a love story. The film asks tough questions: Is love still noble if it isn’t reciprocated? Can devotion turn dangerous when it becomes untethered from reality?
Like 500 Days of Summer with a sharper, more bruising edge, Waverly leaves much unsaid, relying on body language, silences, and glances that linger too long. While it’s not a love story in the traditional sense, Waverly is undeniably a story about love’s darker corners: unfulfilled longing, emotional neglect, and the pain of being seen as a placeholder in someone else’s life.
Its refusal to offer catharsis or romantic payoff might frustrate viewers hoping for resolution. But for those who have ever found themselves in a lopsided relationship, trapped between what they give and what they receive, the film hits hard. Short but impactful, Waverly is a cautionary tale wrapped in soft lighting and aching performances. It doesn’t ask you to root for the couple; it dares you to examine if love is worth the risk.
Fantasia 2025 runs from July 16th to August 3rd 2025