Dream Machine – Trying Means Not Failing
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It can be challenging for anyone to be forced to accept being defined by what others expect you to be. But what if being yourself doesn’t allow you to be who you really want to be seen as? That is the subject matter Ushmey Chakraborty’s short film, ‘Gay, Asian, Immigrant’, cleverly tackles.
Using a comedic format, the film tells the story of Ravi, yes, a gay, Asian, immigrant who finds himself caught in the lie of his own adaptive behaviour, torn between pleasing his new boyfriend or making sure his work colleague doesn’t find out who he really is. It’s a scenario that’s both funny and painfully honest, exploring how far people sometimes go to fit into spaces not designed for them.
The short opens with Ravi (played by Ushmey Chakraborty himself) conversing with Ben (Dre Matthews). They’re clearly at that tender, hopeful point of a new relationship where they are both considering taking things a step further. But the moment is abruptly tested when Cheryl (Janet Carter), Ravi’s team leader from work, shows up unannounced. To Ben’s surprise, Ravi’s demeanour changes. He switches into a version that feels like a performance, leaning into every stereotype imaginable about Indian people. Ben is not only shocked by this, but he is hurt and confused.
Cheryl, who has obviously bought into Ravi’s earlier fabricated “sob story” from his job interview, encourages him to share it with Ben. What follows is an incredibly awkward and heartbreaking moment. Ravi, cornered by his own lie, is forced to tell that story again. Ben, disgusted by the charade, struggles to reconcile the man he’s grown fond of with the one now performing in front of him.
Ushmey Chakraborty does a remarkable job of presenting both sides of this uncomfortable situation. Ben, also a person of colour, understands too well what it means to navigate life as part of a minority constantly stereotyped in America. His confusion and disappointment are layered not only at Ravi’s dishonesty but also at his willingness to reduce himself just to be accepted. Beneath the comedy this film presents lies a poignant critique of code-switching. That subtle or sometimes not so subtle shift in attitude that people of colour make just to fit in when there are several white people around.
It is not entirely clear if Ushmey Chakraborty made this film about himself, even though his portrayal of Ravi feels deeply personal. The film’s emotional truth certainly can be relatable to everyone. Especially anyone who has had to ‘put on’ a performance just to fit in.
“I am privileged, but I still want to make something of my life and not depend on my father,” Ravi says to Ben, in a confession that feels sincere and even noble. Yet, the moral disconnect is glaring. How far can one go in self-degradation just to be seen? The film poses that question unflinchingly, without easy answers. And that sits with you long after it has ended.
Creatively, the short doesn’t need to be more than it is. Its aesthetics are simple yet purposeful. The visuals start off bright and dreamy during Ravi and Ben’s intimate moments, but as the truth begins to unravel, the colors slowly fade, grounding the story in a more sobering reality.
With just three characters and an 11-minute runtime, ‘Gay, Asian, Immigrant’ is concise but potent. It’s a film made with clear intent to spark conversation about identity, choices, and the quiet cost of living behind masks.
And in doing so, it leaves you wondering how much of yourself you’ve ever had to hide just to belong.
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