Look at Me tells the story of Taylor Olson (Olson, playing a fictionalized version of himself), a deeply insecure, bisexual actor who is battling bulimia. Burdened by loneliness, Olsen searches for validation in relationships but continues to put up walls. When he finally believes he’s found someone that sees him for who he is, he must lean into his own journey of self-love in order to truly heal.
Written and directed by Taylor Olson, Look at Me is a stunningly authentic film that is willing to move into the dark corners of the male psyche. Told in black and white, we are meant to view Olson’s world as drained of both colour and life. Although he lives each day moving between auditions, his soul feels empty. He’s a man who wants to find happiness but can’t seem to see past his own flaws.
The fact that Olson refers to this film as a ‘fictional autobiography’ is telling. After all, this feels like an incredibly honest and personal film. Even so, according to Olson, while many of the events that take place have been adjusted, it’s the core of his feelings that ring true. And, appropriately, it’s the emotional aspect of this piece that hits most deeply.
In each scene, Olson cooks. Every time he glares at another character, his eyes feel pregnant with a mixture of hurt and rage. Because we see him when he’s alone, we know that this is a character whose heart is bleeding. But for others, his pain seems to go largely unnoticed. He is funny, heartfelt and the purest of characters. However, every attempt at connection is a struggle for him and every deep sigh seems to reveal his hurt.
Yet it’s also because of these smaller flashes that Olson’s film also works so well. Quick cuts show us his private moments and reveal his damaged soul. Whether he’s screaming inside his head with negative self-talk or examining every inch of his body in a mirror, we bear witness to the emotional load that presses him down. Struggling with his weight, Olson is told that he should ‘try comedy’ because he doesn’t look like a leading man. When he meets a potential love interest, he immediately undercuts himself in an attempt at self-protection. Olson’s world is one of constant rejection and his inner anguish is inescapable. As a result, the man who wants to become an actor is forced to put on a show for everyone else in his life.
It’s this emphasis on men’s mental health that makes the film feel like an anomaly. While other film’s breach the topic, Look at Me courageously sits within it. Olson is shown to be a man who appears to have deeper humility than many other men. Even so, he still struggles to acknowledge his own feelings out loud. As such, Look seems to dive into the waters of masculinity in ways that other film’s only tiptoe. With his battle with bulimia and self-image, we are shown the damage of male toxicity when it is turned inwards as opposed to against others. This can make the film a difficult watch, but still utterly essential.
Though this film will be missed by many, there’s something truly special to be had in its discussion. Thanks to some beautiful writing by Olson, Look at Me is reflective, honest and genuinely engaging. While it will undoubtedly be a difficult watch, that doesn’t make it any less important. In short, it’s worth taking a Look.
Look at Me is available in theatres on Friday, February 7th, 2025.
