Why Films About Loneliness Feel Uncomfortably Real Today

Films about loneliness often feel unsettling because they mirror experiences many people live with quietly. Not the kind of loneliness caused by being alone, but the kind that exists even when surrounded by family. In my view, this is why Nanti Kita Cerita Tentang Hari Ini feels so painfully real.

The film portrays a family that appears complete from the outside, yet emotionally fractured within. One of the most striking portrayals of loneliness comes from Aurora, the second child. She grows up in a household where attention is unevenly distributed, not out of cruelty, but out of unresolved trauma.

The parents’ focus gravitates toward the youngest daughter, shaped by the loss of her twin at birth. Their protectiveness is rooted in fear, not favoritism, yet the effect remains the same. Meanwhile, the eldest son is relied upon as the pillar of responsibility, the one expected to carry weight and provide stability. In between them stands Aurora, present but unnoticed.

Aurora’s loneliness does not come from rejection. It comes from invisibility. She is not asked too much, nor protected too tightly. She simply exists without space to express her own needs. This kind of emotional neglect is difficult to explain, because nothing looks obviously wrong. And yet, everything feels quietly empty.

Films like this resonate today because many people recognize this dynamic. Families can function, laugh, and survive while still failing to truly see one another. Loneliness becomes normalized, especially for those who learn early that their feelings are less urgent than others’.

What makes Nanti Kita Cerita Tentang Hari Ini uncomfortable is its honesty. It does not villainize the parents, nor does it dramatize Aurora’s pain excessively. It simply shows how unprocessed grief and unspoken expectations can create emotional distance within a home.

Perhaps films about loneliness feel real today because they remind us that being unseen hurts just as much as being alone. And that recognition, however painful, is often the first step toward healing.