The film revolves around one of the people who faces a bad path in his life when his mental health deteriorates. He faces a bad path and his health is deteriorating at a rapid pace after an unspeakable tragedy inside his mother's house.
The film is phenomenally acted, but rarely makes much use of the power of cinema, instead using a device associated more with theater-the one-set location, with a one-man cast.
An audacious one-man show-a series of deluded, sometimes charming, often tragic, occasionally frightening monologues delivered by a troubled veteran clearly in the midst of a dissociative crisis.
It's a performance that gets the writhing interplay of transparency and opacity in a character who has gone beyond the deep end of unhinged narcissism and self-dramatization.
The careful layering of the experiences and emotions that influence Peter's choices, along with expert massaging of the tension that exists from the start, make Nightingale a sad but satisfying film.
"Nightingale" is overshot to appear more cinematic and underwritten to avoid pomposity, and that's okay. Both decisions are just that: choices to serve the character. Peter would be pleased with how his little film turned out.
