Dizzy: All Gas, No Brakes, No Regrets
Dizzy doesn’t knock on the door of your senses, it kicks it in, steals the car keys, and asks if you trust it enough to ride shotgun. Zac La Roc’s short is a sugar-rush of adolescent recklessness, a neon-stained memory of youth when consequences felt theoretical and the night seemed endless. It’s loud, funny, unhinged, and, beneath the chaos, oddly precise about what it wants to say.
Set in a suburbia that feels both familiar and slightly warped, the film follows best friends Dylan and Lizzy over the course of nine delirious hours. The plan is simple in the way bad ideas always are: steal mom’s boyfriend’s car, drop acid, see what happens. Dylan is pure momentum no brakes, no rearview mirror. Lizzy, meanwhile, is the internal monologue we all ignore when adrenaline takes the wheel. Their chemistry is electric, effortless, and absolutely essential. Without it, Dizzy would spin out.
La Roc, a filmmaker steeped in industry experience but refreshingly uninterested in playing it safe, directs with the confidence of someone who knows exactly how close to the edge he’s dancing. The film explodes with color and attitude, candy-coated cinematography, bold VFX flourishes, sharp editing, and a color palette that feels like it’s been dipped in gasoline and lit with a match. Costume design walks that beautiful line between “carefully messy” and “perfectly unbothered,” reinforcing the film’s hyperreal tone.
What’s most impressive is how little Dizzy worries about being respectable. It embraces surrealism, leans into comedy, and understands that realism doesn’t always mean restraint. The film feels alive, unpredictable, and slightly dangerous, like it might laugh at you for expecting it to behave. And that’s the point.
Yes, it’s wild. Yes, it’s chaotic. But it’s never careless. Beneath the laughs and visual sugar highs is a genuine affection for youth the kind that knows how stupid, beautiful, and fleeting it all is. Dizzy isn’t asking you to condone bad decisions. It’s asking you to remember what it felt like to make them.
