Emil Nava knows a thing or two about directing music videos, having helmed nearly 100 genre titles for blockbuster artists and their record labels. This honed expertise guides the aesthetic fabric of “Snorkeling” (2025), a free-form narrative feature that cracks open the shell of young, troubled love, framed through the lens of addiction. Even the most cynical minds will feel compelled and moved by this deeply personal film, as Nava pours everything into a story that bares the souls of those trapped in a noxious cycle that is often difficult to break.
A new street drug, Troxy, is all the rage among the youth, as this highly addictive hallucinogen offers a beautiful escape, a break from the mundanities of the world. Teenager Michael (Daniel Zolghadri) initially sticks to smoking pot with his friend, but a prolonged infatuation with Jameson (Kristine Froseth) intrigues him to inhale Troxy and everything it has to offer. Jameson, on the other hand, keeps mostly to herself, spending most of her time recording gloomy livestreams or losing herself in the sweet reality concocted by Troxy. When she does come in contact with Michael, the drug is the only personal thing she mentions about herself, almost like an invitation for him to get to know her better.
For Michael, this drug-fueled connection is the only way to intimately connect to Jameson, who yearns to escape a difficult home life in anticipation of something more tangible. A superficial glance at Michael might situate him as a privileged kid with a rather cushy existence, but the hollowness that comes with alienation can hound anyone, even those with plenty to be thankful about.
Moreover, he’s only 17, on the cusp of entering the world of adulthood — a rung of existence that doesn’t necessarily numb troubled thoughts, but often exacerbates them. While both Michael and Jameson (along with the other kids who partake in the drug) are intimately aware of the horrific repercussions of an overdose, the risk seems to pale in comparison to the security provided by a vibrant mindscape that oozes with endless possibilities.
Nava realizes these sequences with artistic gusto, drenching the world with a hue of neon pink that gives way to animated avatars and other whimsical creations. Transparent, shimmering bodies float in the air, along with a massive spider, which comes off more as a guardian entity than a creature posed as a threat. Michael and Jameson meet and unmeet in these shared realities, where their burgeoning love spills over into this merged consciousness, where nothing is awkward or difficult or impossible. Reality, however, comes rushing back in, framed through documentary-style interviews of our characters who talk about how they feel, often finding it hard to put their struggles into words.
The consequences of snorkeling aren’t pretty, as the need to escape overpowers the obligation to face reality head-on. Even when these surreal mindscapes morph into something more grotesque, and the once-protective motif of the spider transforms into a blooksucking parasite, the temptation to stay persists. Michael doesn’t want to lose Jameson to the drug, even when he finds himself lost in its throes — it is that quintessential feeling of wanting to protect someone who has given up on themselves, where you would rather have them reject you over and over than lose them forever. It is easy to mistake such raw emotion for pretentiousness, but “Snorkeling” dips into the waters of an emotion that lies buried inside each one of us, nudging us towards an uncomfortable reckoning.
Zolghadri brings a naturalistic awkwardness to Michael, which imbues the character with so much more depth than any words can articulate. These sentiments are relayed through wordless detours and solitary moments of frustration and triumph, heightened through the fumes of the drug. Froseth, on the other hand, is stunningly moving and vulnerable, even though Jameson’s characterization is rather threadbare, like a dream you cannot fully remember. These dual performances enliven the sweetness inherent in Michael and Jameson as a couple, as they are two lost souls who go to extreme ends to find each other in a world filled with shallow encounters.
“Snorkeling” uses its bold, unconventional format to replicate the intangible, etching a coming-of-age love story that flits between self-negation and authentic connection. It is experimental and intimate, unafraid to dive into the turgid waters of existential ennui and swim back up towards the shore just in time.