NOV 20-21, 2026
‘Knights & Relationships’ Review: Two Armored Warriors Face a Battle No Sword Can Settle
Sam Tung’s intimate fantasy short uses authentic armor, restrained performances and beautiful woodland cinematography to explore the emotional defenses we carry into an encounter with someone from our past.
The first thing we hear is the armor.
Metal shifts against metal as a solitary knight walks through the woods. Every step has weight. The sound is sharp, physical and immediate, pulling us into the world of Knights & Relationships before the story has revealed anything about the person hidden beneath the helmet.
It is a strong beginning because writer-director Sam Tung understands that armor is not simply part of the costume design. It is the central metaphor of the film.
Adapted from Oscar Westberg’s short comic A Chance Encounter, the story brings together two wandering knights who share a complicated history. Their unexpected meeting begins cautiously, with both characters protected by steel, pride and the emotional distance created by whatever happened between them in the past. What follows is not a conventional duel, but a conversation in which old wounds, different memories and unresolved feelings slowly return to the surface.
The premise is clever, but its strength comes from how simple and recognizable it ultimately becomes. These may be magical knights traveling through a medieval fantasy world, yet their discomfort is entirely modern and human. Anyone who has unexpectedly encountered a former partner will recognize the strange combination of defensiveness, curiosity, regret and the desire to leave with some dignity intact.
Tung takes that emotional experience and makes it literal. These characters are not only behaving as though they are wearing armor. They are completely enclosed within it.
Performances Hidden Behind Helmets
Krystle Martin and Brandin Elmore face a particularly difficult acting challenge. For much of the film, they perform from behind armor that conceals nearly every familiar tool an actor would normally use.
We cannot always see an eyebrow move, a mouth tighten or an expression change. The helmets remove much of the face, but the performances remain completely readable.
That is one of the film’s greatest accomplishments.
Martin and Elmore communicate through timing, vocal rhythm, breathing and physical posture. A pause becomes meaningful. A subtle turn away from the other person suggests discomfort. The way one knight adjusts their stance can feel like an emotional retreat, while a slight movement forward can carry the possibility of confrontation or reconciliation.
Even without seeing their eyes for much of the film, we feel both characters.
Their shared history is present in the way they speak to one another. There is familiarity beneath the formality, affection beneath the frustration and a sense that each person has rehearsed this conversation privately without ever expecting to have it in reality.
The dialogue avoids overexplaining what happened between them. Instead, it allows fragments of the past to emerge naturally. The audience is trusted to understand that relationships rarely end with one person possessing the complete truth.
Each knight has constructed a personal version of the past. Both have reasons to feel hurt, and both appear determined to protect the life and identity they have built since separating.
Martin brings strength and emotional precision to her character. When more of the knight beneath the armor is finally revealed, the moment works because the performance has already established so much without relying on facial expression.
Elmore is equally convincing. He finds vulnerability without weakening the character’s physical presence, creating the impression of a man who knows how to survive a battle but is less prepared to discuss the emotional consequences of his choices.
Together, the performers make the conversation feel private, uncomfortable and real.
A Fantasy Built Through Detail
The production design by Zachariah Roane gives the film another level of credibility. The frame is filled with objects that appear to belong to this world rather than props placed there moments before filming.
The weapons are especially effective. Swords, an axe and other pieces of equipment carry convincing texture and weight. They appear functional and used, suggesting that the knights’ lives involve real danger beyond the emotional conflict unfolding in this scene.
A beautifully created old book is among the most memorable details. Its worn pages, aged appearance and illustrations of dragons and legends make it look like an artifact recovered from another century.
The book does more than decorate the scene. It suggests a culture with its own recorded myths, histories and beliefs. In a matter of seconds, it expands the mythology of the film without requiring exposition.
Additional objects placed around the tree and throughout the setting continue that sense of a lived-in world. The filmmakers understand that fantasy becomes convincing through accumulation. One authentic detail supports another until the audience stops questioning the environment and simply enters it.
This is where Tung’s background as a storyboard artist becomes especially visible. The images feel composed with intention. Props, performers, trees and sources of light are arranged to guide the eye through the frame.
The short never feels visually careless. Even when the action is limited to two people talking, the images remain active through depth, reflections, physical movement and the controlled placement of production elements.
Sound That Gives the Armor Weight
The sound design deserves particular recognition.
From the opening footsteps, the armor is constantly present. Metal scrapes, plates shift and weapons produce small sounds whenever the characters move. These details prevent the costumes from feeling ornamental.
We believe in their weight because we can hear it.
The sound mix is clean and forceful without overwhelming the dialogue. Every metallic movement adds physical texture, but the conversation remains clear and emotionally central.
The contrast between hard metal and human voices is especially effective. The knights may appear physically protected, yet their words gradually expose what the armor cannot defend.
Louis Weeks’ music is used with similar restraint. The score supports the medieval atmosphere and gives the encounter emotional scale, but it does not instruct the audience how to feel at every moment. It enters where needed, adding weight to the characters’ history while allowing silence and environmental sound to carry much of the tension.
Editing, sound, music and performance work together so smoothly that the technical craft never distracts from the relationship at the center of the film.
Everything feels in its proper place.
When an Ex Becomes an Opponent
The smartest decision in Knights & Relationships is refusing to turn its premise into a joke.
The metaphor is playful: meeting an ex can feel like arriving for battle, fully armored and ready to defend yourself. Yet Tung treats the emotions beneath that idea seriously.
The film explores how pride can protect us while also making honest communication nearly impossible. Armor offers safety, but it also creates distance. It keeps an enemy’s weapon away from the body while preventing another person from coming close.
The two knights have clearly changed since their relationship ended. The encounter forces them to compare the people they once were with the people they have become.
Neither character can simply return to the past, but neither can pretend it had no meaning.
That tension gives the short its emotional maturity. It understands that caring for someone does not necessarily mean a relationship should continue. It also understands that closure is rarely a perfect exchange in which every question receives a satisfying answer.
Sometimes, two people can acknowledge the damage, recognize what was real and continue walking in different directions.
The fantasy setting creates enough distance for the audience to consider these ideas without the film becoming overly familiar. We may be watching knights discuss quests, duties and past choices, but beneath the language is a conversation that could happen outside a restaurant, at a train station or on an ordinary city street.
That combination of the epic and the intimate is precisely what makes the film work.
Direction With Confidence and Restraint
Sam Tung deserves considerable credit for pulling together such a technically demanding concept while maintaining focus on the emotional story.
It would have been easy for the armor, weapons and fantasy elements to dominate the film. Instead, Tung uses them to reveal character.
The direction is controlled and patient. The camera does not move simply to create energy. The editing does not rush the conversation. The performances are allowed enough space for discomfort to develop.
Tung also avoids the temptation to expand the short beyond what the story needs. We do not require a battle scene, a digital army or a tour through an entire kingdom. The film knows that the most important confrontation has already taken place inside these two people.
That restraint makes the production feel more confident, not less ambitious.
Doris’ cinematography, Roane’s production design, Weeks’ music, the precise sound work and the committed performances of Martin and Elmore all support Tung’s vision. This is a crew working toward one clear idea rather than a collection of individually impressive departments competing for attention.
The result is polished, atmospheric and emotionally accessible.
The Battle Beneath the Armor
Knights & Relationships is a beautiful example of how fantasy can make an ordinary human experience feel newly visible.
Its armor is authentic, its props are richly detailed and its woodland cinematography is consistently impressive. The sound of the metal is powerful. The warm light reflected across the knights creates images worthy of a much larger production.
Yet the film’s real success lies beneath all that craft.
We care about the two people inside the armor.
Martin and Elmore make us feel their history even when we cannot see their faces. Tung gives their conversation the seriousness of a duel, understanding that words exchanged with someone who once knew us intimately can cut more deeply than a weapon.
Selected for the Los Angeles Fantasy Fest 2026, Knights & Relationships is a carefully made and deeply human fantasy short. It transports the audience into a medieval world while asking a question that belongs completely to the present: when we meet someone from our past, are we protecting ourselves from them—or from what we might still feel?
Production Details
Director and writer: Sam Tung
Based on the comic by: Oscar Westberg
Producer: Alecia Lebeda
Cinematographer: Ryan Doris
Production designer: Zachariah Roane
Music: Louis Weeks
Cast: Krystle Martin and Brandin Elmore
Country: United States
Language: English
Year: 2024
Genre: Fantasy, drama
Format: Live-action, color
By Darwin Reina 25 July 2026
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