This directorial debut from Daniel V. Masciari is the result of true collaboration on a shoestring budget; the kind that can go down in indie film history if it hits just right, like Night of the Living Dead, Slacker, Sex, Lies, and Videotape, and Clerks. Stationed at Home – getting its World Premiere at GFF – is a wry, offbeat, and visually gorgeous comedy that nods to some clear influences but gently imposes its own identity.

On a brutally cold Christmas Eve in 1998, taxi driver Ralph (Erik Bjarnar) is working the graveyard shift in the small city of Binghamton, New York. He doesn’t mind too much, as long as he gets finished in time to see the International Space Station pass over the state on early Christmas morning. Ralph’s modest plans are put in jeopardy by a series of odd characters.

All about he ephemeral, fleeting connections that we make in passing with other strangers, Stationed at Home is all about character and mood. At first it seems like the focus will be solely on Ralph with characters coming and going as he picks up and drops off his fares. However, the narrative works like concentric ripples from a stone cast into a pond and we begin to return to certain characters repeatedly. What begins in the clear vein of early Linklater and Jarmusch, or even the more overtly arthouse approach of Kiarostami‘s Taste of Cherry, expands to the kind of loose ensemble of something like 200 Cigarettes.

The comic elements are also in the tradition of those classics of the ’80s and ’90s, eschewing the knowing eccentricity and studied whimsy that seems to be a feature of recent American indie cinema, in favour of humour marked by moroseness and a palpable sense of Weltschmerz. The mood is fitting, given that the fleeting appearance of the ISS is presented as such a comparatively huge event.

At two hours, the deadpan tone and the Droopy Dog nature of the humour does leave some lulls in its pacing, particularly regarding the character of Elaine (Eliza VanCort) who, unlike the other characters, has little orbital connection to Ralph once she’s left his taxi. She does however, have one of the more arresting scenes, as a spectator at vaguely Club Silencio-like cabaret. When everything else more or less loops round in its plot, it does feel like Elaine was included to showcase some serious old-school enigmatic glamour from VanCort, rather than as any plot catalyst.

As much as a collaborative showcase of talent as a film, from the workshop of actors mentored by VanCort, to the young composer Logan Nelson. Stationed at Home could be a calling card for any number of careers. Perhaps most impressive is the beautiful black and white cinematography from Jackson Jarvis, whose crisply pristine compositions are both rich in texture and ruthlessly effective at conveying the frigid cold that wreaths its characters. Perhaps a little too stately and languorous to justify its length, despite a slow build towards a chaotic, slightly magic-realist third act, it’s nevertheless a warmly likeable and technically accomplished debut that will look stunning on the big screen.

Screening at Glasgow Film Festival Fri 7 to Sun 9 Mar 2025