We've all seen movies where the main character is an artist or illustrator, and his/her drawings come to life as part of the narrative. But how about movies where the drawings involve the main character getting killed in gruesome ways? It could be morbid, or it could be the wonderful blend of tones that is Look Both Ways, a delightful and thoughtful debut from Australian filmmaker Sarah Watt. Although the movie is an ensemble piece at heart, Watt's "main character" is Meryl (Justine Clark), and the title refers to the fact that she sees death around every corner -- that she must "look both ways" to make sure she isn't flattened by a train, either physically or emotionally. An actual train flattening figures into the narrative, as a number of characters are connected by their proximity to an incident that takes the life of a man on the tracks. What truly connects the characters, though, is that they are all wrestling with issues of mortality, whether it's literal (one character learns he has cancer), metaphorical (another wonders if he's wasting his life), or related to someone else's life (a third debates whether or not to bring a baby to term). Look Both Ways isn't depressing, though. At its core it's about people connecting, about people leaning on one another to grapple with life's great and small tragedies. Watt's witty dialogue ensures that her film is whimsical as often as it's thought-provoking, and it's frequently both. The film's one shortcoming may be its reliance on some rather lugubrious pop music, employed too early in the narrative. It's the one way Watt tries to manipulate us into feeling something, but it simply isn't necessary. Just by filtering her ideas through good performances and a satisfying narrative arc, Watt can make us feel plenty.