On a superficial level, Biz tells the story of an angry young man--a disaffected actor. He has sex with this gorgeous woman who is clearly more interested in his genes than anything resembling a relationship and tells him so via WhatsApp. Our actor appears to be disappointed at this and the way the apathetic theatergoers, signified by mannequins, fail to respond to his outburst of emotion. On a deeper level, the narrative asks questions about the degree neoliberalism has succeeded in co-opting the arts (filmmaking being one of them). This ruthless form of capitalism holds that all human interaction is driven by the desire to get the best deal. Business relations and economic transactions pervade all aspects of life. Love is a fiction. According to this doctrine, there is no alternative viewpoint. Our caring for (and about) each other is a thin veneer rather than a deep rooted impulse, the icing on our dog-eat-dog nature. Yet, if it has ever been the role of the artist--much like the jester at court--to not only entertain the powers that be but also criticize the political system, why is it that the protagonist, eventually, doesn't act any different from everyone else? What is HIS game?
—BC Bogey