Escapism and entertainment may well top the list of reasons people watch films, but often underestimated is the emotive power of a movie and how its narrative resonates with us long after watching. Although at the time, this feeling may well be one of sadness or distress (undoubtedly negative emotions), the recognition of a film’s influence to evoke this kind of response is one of the most rewarding experiences in cinema. One such film wielding this potential is Kevan Funk’s Destroyer – the story of how a young athlete’s world is turned upside-down after he witness a disturbing crime – this is a short that focuses on the consequences of your actions…or lack of them.

Engulfing you into the world of its junior hockey team through Benjamin Loeb’s close-up handheld photography, the camera seemingly always hovering close to Destroyer’s main character Tyson, we’re quickly made to feel almost part of the team by being thrown into the tight knit circle of this pack of male adolescents. Whilst Destroyer may orbit around a hockey team, lets get one thing straight – this isn’t a typical sports movie. There will be no last-minute win, no heroic athlete lifted onto the shoulders of his adoring teammates – if you’re looking for that feelgood factor, you’ve probably come to the wrong place. The title of Funk’s film may refer to the role of its protagonist within his sports team, but it just as easily could refer to the impact of his film after watching.

When we talk about filmmaking we often talk about a director delivering a knockout blow – that one moment in the film that catches you square in the jaw, leaving you stunned. When Funk connects with his, it doesn’t just rock you back on your heels, it knocks you off them. It’s a truly devastating moment (one I’m still reeling from the morning after watching), but for me, it’s what comes before that is the truly clever part of Funk’s approach. If the scene with the coach at the end is the killer blow, the director has been building up to this throughout the film’s 11-minute duration with a series of strategically placed jabs to subtly wear his audience down before delivering it (it’s almost like a ‘Rope-a-dope’ approach to filmmaking). And just like a boxer on the receiving end of these tactics, its only when the final bell has rung and you’re left dazed on the canvas, that you truly appreciate what just happened.

I often refer to subtlety when talking about how a director tells their story and if you’ve ever wanted a great example of this, then look no further than Funk’s Destroyer. His story provides lots of opportunities for the filmmaker to go into more graphic detail and maybe that would have been an easier option, but Funk skilfully navigates around these more obvious filmmaking choices, by instead leaving lots of holes in his narrative for us, the viewer, to fill in. He could have so easily shown us the crime committed at the social gathering – but would that have been more impactful than leaving us with the unsettling act of actually imagining what happened ourselves?

Where Destroyer is most powerful though, is in just how “real” it feels. It’s hard not to watch Funk’s film and think about how the on-screen events echo the already well-documented events of Steubenville, Ohio and in adding this unnerving feeling of reality to his short, the weight of its impact is magnified unmeasurably. With its almost documentary style and approach, Funk has made a film that as an audience experience makes it feel as if you’re a witness to its events, instead of a spectator. You feel embedded in the team, part of the group dynamic and whilst in many sports film that may coincide with an adrenaline pumping feeling of success, with Destroyer it comes with an uncomfortable sense of guilt that’s hard to shake off long after the credits roll.