Critical Reflection

 How do your products represent social groups or issues?

With Burnt Out, I wanted to tell a story that felt personal, not just to me but to so many students who are constantly overwhelmed by schoolwork and responsibilities. The film follows a young Black student who is completely exhausted—every day feels like an endless cycle of assignments, studying, and stress. No matter how much work she finishes, there’s always more waiting for her. She can’t catch a break, and the weight of it all is taking a toll on her.

I chose to focus on burnout because it’s something so many students experience but don’t always talk about. The pressure to keep going, to push through exhaustion and pretend everything is fine, is especially common among young Black women. There’s this unspoken expectation to be strong no matter what, to never let up, and that mindset can make it even harder to recognize when enough is enough.

Throughout the film, the protagonist’s exhaustion is shown in the smallest details—unfinished assignments piling up, her struggling to keep her eyes open while studying, ignoring texts from friends because she’s too drained to respond. But instead of letting burnout consume her completely, she finally makes the decision to stop. The moment she realizes she doesn’t have to keep running herself into the ground is the most important part of the film. It’s a turning point, not just for her, but for the message of the story: burnout isn’t a badge of honor, and sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do is say, enough is enough.

How do the elements of your production work together to create a sense of ‘branding’?

Since I filmed everything at home, I had full control over the atmosphere of Burnt Out, which helped shape its overall branding. I wanted the film to have a specific mood—overwhelming, isolating, and, at times, suffocating—until the very end, when things finally shift.

Visually, I kept the colors muted and the lighting dim for most of the film. The protagonist spends so much time at her desk, staring at a screen, buried in books, and I wanted the audience to feel that exhaustion through the visuals. Many scenes are shot in tight frames, making it seem like she’s trapped, with no escape from her work. Her bedroom, which should feel like a place of rest, instead feels like another classroom, emphasizing how burnout blurs the lines between work and personal life.

The editing reinforces the overwhelming feeling. The first half of the film is filled with jump cuts and fast transitions, mimicking the nonstop nature of her workload. There are moments where time seems to pass too quickly—assignments piling up, days blending together—while other moments drag, like when she’s staring blankly at her laptop, unable to focus.

But as the story progresses and she decides she’s had enough, the branding shifts. The lighting becomes slightly warmer, the cuts slow down, and the camera frames open up. The sense of suffocation eases as she steps away from her desk and reclaims her space.

Even in promotional materials, I stuck with this branding. Social media teasers and posters highlight the contrast—images of exhaustion paired with that final moment of relief. Every piece of the project ties back to the same message: burnout is real, but so is the power of stepping away.

How do your products engage with the audience?

I wanted Burnt Out to feel real—to make the audience see themselves in the protagonist’s struggles. So much of what she goes through is something many students experience daily: the late nights, the overwhelming workload, the guilt that comes with taking a break. By keeping the film grounded in reality, I hoped to create an emotional connection that makes people think, I’ve been there.

One of the biggest ways the film engages the audience is through its setting. I filmed everything at home, in a space that looks like any student’s bedroom. There are no dramatic school hallways or lecture scenes—just a desk, a bed, a laptop, and stacks of unfinished work. It’s a familiar space, which makes it easy for the audience to place themselves in the protagonist’s shoes.

The most important moment of engagement comes when she finally decides to stop. Throughout the film, the audience has seen her struggling, pushing through exhaustion, trying to keep up. So when she finally closes her laptop, takes a deep breath, and walks away from her desk, it feels like a victory—not just for her, but for anyone watching who has felt the same pressure. It’s a reminder that stepping away doesn’t mean failing.

Beyond the film itself, I wanted to encourage conversations about burnout. The film’s social media posts ask questions like, “Have you ever felt like you just can’t keep up?” or “When’s the last time you gave yourself a real break?” These posts create a space for students to share their experiences, making Burnt Out more than just a film—it becomes a conversation starter.

How did your research inform your products and the way they use or challenge conventions?

Before making Burnt Out, I spent time researching burnout—how it affects students, how it builds up over time, and how it’s usually portrayed in media. One thing I noticed was that burnout is often shown in extreme ways, like students collapsing from exhaustion or failing completely. But in reality, burnout is much more subtle. It’s that constant feeling of being drained, struggling to focus, and pushing through exhaustion because you feel like you have no other choice.

That realization shaped the entire approach to my film. Instead of focusing on big, dramatic breakdowns, I showed burnout in smaller, more relatable ways—staring at a screen with tired eyes, avoiding texts from friends, sitting at a desk for hours but getting nothing done. These quiet moments make the story feel more real because they’re things so many students experience daily.

At the same time, Burnt Out challenges some common storytelling conventions. Many films about student stress show outside forces—strict parents, demanding teachers—pushing the character to their limit. But in this film, no one is forcing the protagonist to keep working. She’s the one pushing herself. This highlights an important reality: sometimes, the pressure comes from within.

The film also breaks away from the idea that burnout has to end in complete failure. Instead of showing the protagonist reaching a breaking point, I wanted to show her making a choice—to stop, to step away, to prioritize herself. It’s a subtle but powerful shift, one that challenges the idea that success has to come at the expense of mental health.

By grounding the story in real research and shifting the narrative around burnout, Burnt Out doesn’t just tell a story—it offers a new perspective. It reminds students that they don’t have to wait until they’ve completely fallen apart to take a break. They can choose, at any moment, to put themselves first.