Inside the Short: Adam's Fantastical Journey Thru Life Vol. I
- Brandon Uddstrom
- 6 days ago
- 4 min read
A menagerie of everything Inexplicable Shorts stands for: ridiculousness, humor, emotion... lots of shouting.
It’s our first true ensemble piece and I simply am blown away by the performance of everyone involved.
Adam, our titular star played by the wonderfully talented Adam Robinson, is a young adult, down on his luck, someone who walks around with the weight of the world on his shoulders. It’s stated that ‘life hasn’t been very good to him’ by Mia (the powerfully dynamic Shannen Velasco), the apple of his eye, in quite an emotional exchange. His feelings of loneliness, even amidst supposed friends, become compounded upon having his D&D campaign outright trampled on.
In the wake of his depression, Adam finds solace in escaping reality in favor of one personally curated. Without that, he begins to spiral.
We don’t know much about his fantasy counterpart, Adamius, having woken from a stupor only to find he's in custody—very Skyrim-esque. This parallel comes from an overall want to have him remain vague. What are his motivations (other than escape)? Why was he blamed for the slaying of Aurea, a coveted phoenix deity? What exactly led up to this situation?
The same can be asked of the Maiden, Mia's metaphysical representation. Whatever her motives, it's clear she knows far more than the audience does.
Reeko Brooks has been a mainstay for this platform, now as Damon, Mia's sporty love interest. Largely sarcastic and insensitive, he serves, in some ways, as the antagonist, brandishing vitriol towards Adam. I say 'in some ways' because depsite often criticizing the game and those around him, we've learned that there is an affinity for D&D that exists. He is present for reasons other than, 'my girlfriend made me'. Though, that is how it began—wearing only boxers with little red hearts on them, lest we forget. Adam possesses qualities that Damon lacks: sensitivity, creativity, the ability to express his feelings. His anger comes from a place of fear. 'What if Mia leaves me for him?' He loathes the idea that Adam has feelings for her, made worse by the fact that he's had to sit on them so as to not call him out. For as long as he could, anyway.
Our narrator, Dario Cassioli, quite uniquely exists between both realms of fantasy and reality as Steven and the familiar voice longtime listeners will recognize from previous shorts. It's been a joy watching him step into a character role. It creates a fun, almost meta connection between the audience and the story itself. As later volumes unfold, more of the players around Mr. Ericson's butcher shop will begin revealing similar parallels between themselves and their in-game personas.
That includes Erica: a neurotic, brash, painfully type-A woman who loves nothing more than to play make-believe with her friends at any given opportunity. The ever-versatile Morgan J. came through in spades, maintaining a difficult balance between chaotic and endearing.
And Ashley: the elder of the group (though not by much). Her quips and witty observations provide plenty of comic relief, though it'll be interesting to see her evolve beyond them — both in reality and the realm of make-believe.
The hierarchical politics of Elden serve as the story's backbone. Rinea is the cold and calculating Hand to the King, a role which originally called for a male until an actress auditioned. While we ultimately went in another direction, it planted a seed. I reached back out to Justine Leah Hince. We'd last spoken around Thanksgiving 2024 after she voiced a small role in Hindsight Vol. I as a Russian dominatrix. Continuing our holiday banter in the middle of Spring, as if no time had passed, she'd readily accepted, much to my delight—and smashed it. Casting wasn't the only thing that shaped Rinea, however. My earliest inspiration for the role was Astrid, the ruthless leader of the Dark Brotherhood. Her opening scene always stuck with me. The quiet confidence, commanding presence. Players quickly realize the seriousness of their situation through nothing more than calm discussion, forgoing drawn-out action sequences or grandiose speeches—that's powerful.

The High Clergyman, brought to life by the wonderful Jay Silver, immediately butts heads with Rinea and subsequently the King, wanting to maintain order. Unfortunately for him, it becomes readily apparent that conspiracies are afoot regarding their precious deity, Aurea, and he goes on the offensive in the most belligerent yet charming way that only Jay can (who surprisingly is not 75 years old!). This does not end well.
The High Clergyman does not preach the gospel blindly, however. It was important to me that the character question life as a whole—despite his prolific status, achieved through dedicating one's life to prayer. The opening accusation is startling: an all-powerful phoenix, slain: humanity's creator, protector. While the public simply love a good hanging, the believability of such claims notwithstanding, our religious leader, rather surprisingly, has some doubts. At least initially.
This leads us to King Sunder. The first time I heard Alex James' voice, I knew the part was his. Gruff, commanding. Given the high-profile status of such an execution, why would he entrust only two guards in transporting the heretic? What of this supposed holy feather that he may be harboring knowledge of? There's certainly more than meets the eye as his warm and receptive demeanor begins to crack upon Rinea revealing what may have been a closely guarded secret.
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