Emma gives Alex the part of her brain that used to belong to her husband. She shares her dreams with a stranger while giving her partner the silent treatment at the dinner table. The film argues that digital infidelity is actually more insidious than a physical one—because you can hide it in your pocket. Digital Affair is not a fun watch. It’s a mirror.
The film cleverly uses "digital" storytelling. Half the screen time is just text messages and Instagram DMs floating over her face. Yet, Blossom makes reading a text feel as tense as a gunfight. When the three dots (the "typing" indicator) appear and disappear, you feel her stomach drop. What makes Digital Affair so effective is that there is no villain. There is no catfishing twist. Alex is actually exactly who he says he is. The affair is never physical. In fact, they never even video call.
There’s a moment in Blake Blossom’s new thriller, Digital Affair , where her character, Emma, looks at her phone screen in the middle of the night. The blue light floods her face. She isn’t smiling. She isn’t crying. She is just… hollow.