Six Feet
2026 | 16-minute short film | Streaming on major OTT platforms
A 16-minute film that refuses to look away
Cassie stands at the edge of a bridge. Then her ex-boyfriend pulls her back.
That's not a rescue moment — not the clean, cathartic kind you'd expect from a conventional narrative. It's desperate and awkward and it throws both of them into the space where they have to actually talk about what just happened, who they are, and why they're both still carrying wounds from each other. The film doesn't let you breathe from that opening forward. It's a 2026 short film that plants itself in the conversation between what gets said and what can't be said, and that's where it lives for its entire runtime.
What's striking is how much the film trusts silence. There's no soundtrack swelling in to tell you what to feel. There's no moment where someone explains themselves neatly. Just two people who clearly have history, clearly have damage, and clearly aren't prepared to unpack either one.
What happens when you strip a story down to its bones
Short films operate under a constraint that features can ignore — every creative choice is load-bearing. There's no subplot to hide in, no secondary character to deflect emotional weight onto. Six Feet commits to that discipline completely.
The bridge setting does a lot of work before a single line of dialogue lands. Literally, it's where Cassie was about to end her life. Figuratively, it's the threshold between the version of herself she's been performing and whoever she might become next. Her ex-boyfriend — openly gay, already further along a road she's standing at the edge of — occupies that same in-between space. The tension between them isn't quite romantic, isn't quite platonic. It's the specific friction that builds when two people knew each other before they knew themselves.
I keep coming back to how the film handles Cassie's sexuality. It doesn't define it for her. Doesn't pin it down. Doesn't make it the entire plot. That's the right call, and it's harder to pull off than it sounds.
The editing is tight — there's not a wasted frame. If you've watched short films built for streaming platforms before, you know the type: films that understand they're competing against your phone, your second screen, your next notification. Six Feet doesn't fight that. It leans into the intensity instead.
Who should actually watch this
If you're drawn to queer narratives that resist tidy resolution, this one earns your time. If you like films where discomfort is the point — where characters don't get neat answers and audiences don't get neat catharsis — you'll connect with it.
That said: this isn't a comfort watch. The film opens with suicidal ideation and never quite lets that tension go. It's dealing with real mental health crisis, sexuality struggles, and the wreckage of past relationships. You should know that going in.
Movie OTT tracks these emerging short-form titles across platforms because they don't always get prominent placement on streaming homepages. If you're looking for this, the where-to-watch widget at the top of this page pulls live availability in your region — short films rotate between services faster than features do, so checking before you sit down matters.
Think of it this way: if you liked Moonlight for how it handles identity without spelling it out, or if you've watched short films by filmmakers like Josephine Loewenstein and thought "I want more of this," then Six Feet is worth seeking out.
Where to stream it right now
Six Feet is currently available on major OTT platforms. Use the where-to-watch widget above for real-time availability in your region.
Short films can be hard to track down — they don't get the same promotion budget as features, and platform algorithms don't always surface them prominently. Movie OTT aggregates streaming data across services and flags titles like this one that might otherwise get buried. Availability shifts faster for shorts than features, so a quick check before you hit play saves frustration.
Frequently asked questions
Q: Is this based on a true story?
There's no public record indicating Six Feet is based on specific real events. It's an original narrative, though the themes — queer identity, mental health crisis, the aftermath of relationships — come from experiences that are genuinely felt and widely lived.
Q: How long is it?
Sixteen minutes exactly. That runtime isn't a limitation — it's the shape the story requires.
Q: Does it deal with suicide?
Yes. The film opens with Cassie in active suicidal crisis. If that subject matter is something you need to approach carefully, know that going in.
Q: Who directed it?
Directorial and production credits for Six Feet haven't been widely circulated in major press yet. As the film builds its streaming audience, more details are expected to surface through IMDb and platform listings. Movie OTT tends to update these credits as they're officially confirmed across distribution partners.
Q: What if I liked this — what else should I watch?
If Six Feet connects with you, look for other short films that treat queer identity as something lived rather than explained. Films that use constraint (limited locations, compressed runtime, minimal cast) as a tool for emotional precision tend to operate in the same register. Streaming platforms often bundle shorts with similar thematic DNA — check the "if you liked this" recommendations on whatever service is carrying it.
The thing about short films that stay with you
Sixteen minutes. That's enough time to leave you sitting with something you weren't expecting to carry. The film doesn't resolve neatly. It doesn't offer redemption or closure or the kind of ending that lets you walk away feeling settled. It offers something harder — the feeling of two people actually looking at each other for the first time, and neither of them being ready for what they see.
That's not a comfortable place to end. But it's an honest one.