Bits

After a young woman in small town Montana catches the attention of a serial killer on the hunt, when his pursuit ends abruptly, the young woman is overcome with rejection. Pining for closure, she struggles to untangle feelings of neglect and desire.

Mar 27, 2025 - 16:09

In serial killer films like Silence of the Lambs, Seven, and Longlegs, we’re often placed in the detective’s shoes, racing against time to decode cryptic clues, unmask the murderer, and save a potential victim. But far less frequently do these stories unfold from the victim’s perspective, exploring their trauma and survival. Lilliya Reid’s dark and unsettling SXSW short Bits aims to change that, following a young woman who narrowly escapes becoming a victim and grapples with the complex emotions that linger in the aftermath.

Reid’s film begins innocently enough, following a couple on a countryside walk. Their awkward conversation – “Is this a date?” she asks – suggests a budding romance, placing us in what initially feels like a relationship drama, exploring the uneasy will-they-or-won’t-they phase of dating. The first sign that something is off comes at dinner when he serves two whole chickens- without any sides – and devours them as if he hasn’t eaten in days.

Despite the strangeness, the tension between them builds. As he puts on an eclectic choice of music, things turn intimate, and before long, she’s naked, with sex seeming inevitable. But when she complains about the song playing again – “C’mon, I can’t take you seriously with this f*cking music on” – his demeanour shifts. In an instant, he snaps, and just like that, he kicks her out.

Betsey Brown stars in Lilliya Reid’s Bits

In a traditional serial killer film, this scene would likely appear later, serving as a key moment in uncovering the killer’s identity. But in Reid’s Bits, it unfolds within the first third of the 21-minute short. It’s not until around the 14-minute mark that we fully grasp the extent of this man’s depravity. From that point on – though the film has little time left – Bits transforms into a gripping character study, anchored by a commanding performance from Betsey Brown.

After first catching our attention in Alec Moeller’s Empath, Brown returns to our site with another performance that leaves you wondering why she isn’t on our screens more often. In Bits, every moment she’s on screen commands attention, drawing us into her flawed character and leaving us uncertain whether to watch her with empathy, pity, or something else entirely.

She’s working with excellent source material – Reid’s layered and unexpected script, which originated as a short story – but it’s Brown’s authenticity that makes the character so compelling. Her performance feels essential to the film’s success, elevating it beyond a chilling premise into something deeply human.

“I am was interested in making a film about someone who was passed over by a serial killer” – director Reid on her aims with Bits

But Bits isn’t just captivating because of Brown’s performance – Reid’s filmmaking choices are equally crucial in crafting the film’s suffocating atmosphere. Aside from the opening scene, which briefly showcases the beauty of the countryside, the cinematography quickly shifts to a more claustrophobic feel. Nico van den Berg’s camera orbits Brown, subtly reinforcing the idea that she is part of a community, surrounded by people who care for her – yet her loneliness and isolation remain palpable.

This approach makes it clear that Bits isn’t about the killer (played by S/W alum Morgan Kantz) but something far more intriguing: a portrait of “the one who got away” and the psychological toll of that near escape on an already fragile mind. With the intricate procedural structure and unraveling mystery that typically define serial killer narratives, it might seem nearly impossible to explore such a story within the confines of a short film. Yet, Reid’s victim-focused approach not only reframes a familiar genre from a fresh perspective but also introduces an entirely new kind of horror – one rooted in survival, trauma, and the unsettling aftermath of a close call with death.