Written by Shayan Mukherjee
Setting aside the bells and whistles of its innovative layout — most notably, the split-screen format that dominates much of the film — and its experimental premise, which follows two hypothetical responses to a single trigger point, Decisions is a grounded and relatable story at its core. The film centres on a conversation between Bunty (Josha Gupta), a young writer, and his girlfriend Harriet (Miya Lim) in their home, as both struggle to balance their personal ambitions and problems with the support their partner needs. As they unpack the events of a particularly long day, a simmering tension builds, threatening to erupt when the conversation reaches a critical trigger point, when Harriet breaks down and asks for help making dinner.
It is at this pivotal moment that the frame splits into two panels that present opposing paths at either end of the emotional spectrum. In the top panel, Bunty lashes out and refuses to help Harriet; in the bottom, he responds with warmth, stepping in to support her. Dividing the audience’s attention in this way is a bold choice — viewers are never handed an instruction manual, and following two narrative threads at once can risk diluting focus on both plot and theme. Gala sidesteps this neatly through carefully executed pacing. The bottom panel unfolds slowly, often showing Bunty quietly preparing dinner, which pushes it into the visual background. A brief glance is enough for the audience to grasp its territory.
The top panel, by contrast, carries the dramatic weight, delivering a tense and absorbing back-and-forth, as each character’s frustrations and perceptions spill out unfiltered. Gupta and Lim play off one another superbly, using sharp, economical dialogue to escalate the conflict with a natural rhythm. The pacing is reinforced by clever, restrained cinematography from Victoria Li, favouring long takes and minimal cuts that draw us into the intimate reality of two people trying to reconcile deep affection with diverging personal priorities. Gupta brings a simmering restraint to Bunty, often conveying his internal turmoil through subtle shifts in expression as he wrestles with his own creative paralysis. Lim’s Harriet complements this beautifully: her attempts to set aside her own pressures and empathise with Bunty feel sincere, yet they ultimately expose the emotional strain the relationship places on them both.
This film should primarily be remembered for what I’ll call the “sizzle sequence”. At the height of the argument in the top panel, Gala gradually raises the audio from the bottom panel, syncing the increasing sizzle of a frying pan with the rising emotional heat of the conflict above. It is a masterclass in editing and sound design: each component (the dialogue, score, and sound design) is calibrated so precisely that they merge into a chaotic, yet controlled symphony, building towards a deeply satisfying crescendo. When the stove is finally turned off, the release is palpable.
The argument cools into an uneasy silence, and Bunty quietly leaves the flat. The moment lands so strongly because of the film’s sustained emphasis on contrast. From the lighting — icy, clinical blues in the top panel versus the warm softness below — to the performances themselves, we are led to read these as radically different outcomes born from the same trigger point. Yet, when the sizzle bridges both panels, Gala plants a lingering doubt: has the tension in the bottom scenario truly dissolved, or has it merely been brushed under the carpet for the night, left to simmer for now and resurface later?
As these two diverging paths unfold in parallel, you begin to wonder how any resolution could neatly reconcile them. There is something deeply poignant in the film’s refusal to return to a single “present” or to reveal Bunty’s ultimate choice. Instead, we are left with parting images: in the top panel, Bunty sits alone on a park bench, quietly replaying the conversation in his mind; in the bottom, the couple share a calm, companionable dinner.
The film closes on a question rather than an answer. Would we choose the comfort of a peaceful evening with a partner or the risk of voicing the worries we carry? It is a dilemma familiar to anyone who has navigated a relationship, and Decisions lingers precisely because it recognises how often life is shaped not by grand gestures, but by these small, private crossroads.
