GEOMETRIA

Geometria
Guillermo del Toro, Mexico, 1987, Approximately 8 minutes

Geometria is a Spanish-language short film in which a boy goes to desperate measures (i.e. he summons Satan) to ensure that he will not fail his geometry class. Along the way his father is resurrected as a zombie, his mother is killed by zombie dad, and the boy is eventually undone by his basic understanding of shapes (he attempts to protect himself from the devil by drawing a pentagon around his body, but accidentally draws a hexagon).

This is del Toro's second short and the final film he would make before his feature debut, Cronos. That movie has funny moments, but is otherwise an intense, gory horror film, whereas Geometria has scary moments though is mostly funny. It strongly reminded me of an early Sam Raimi movie; the voice is not really del Toro's, or is at least a totally different voice than the one he would develop over the next twenty years. It's silly, which isn't something you can say about any of del Toro's later efforts. Geometria does not feel connected to other Mexican films.

Geometria is clever. The "your wish is a nightmare when taken literally" trope has been around forever and was already used to death on a dozen episodes of The Twilight Zone, so the zombie father gag falls a little flat. The idea that the protagonist's pentagram is incorrectly sketched, however, is brilliant. The fact that the boy promises his mother that he will not fail geometry and then instantly begins drawing his own blood in order to summon Satan is also hilarious. This is del Toro using another auteur's voice, but he is a strong enough filmmaker that he still leaves a mark in a wonderful way.

DER EISANGLER

After my very interesting night trying to get back home from my DC shorts viewing in time to post this, I finally was able to sit down and really think about which film was my true favorite of the night. I had a very close tie between Sudden Death! and Der Eisangler (The Icefisher).

So for my post I have decided on Der Eisangler, really only because someone already talked about the hilarious Sudden Death!. I was very skeptical as Der Eisangler began because it was already in German with English subtitles, but as soon as the movie started I was intrigued. The movie opens to find a very young boy named Jonas sitting in the back of a car driven by his Mother. They are headed down a freshly shoveled street, but the rest of the area around them is blanketed within at least a foot of snow and ice. As they arrive at the destination, a beat up trailer home owned by Jonas' Father, we see the bickering begin between the two parents almost instantly. The little boy, whose innocence just radiates through his adorable face and deep eyes, just stares at them until his Mom leaves and he can ask his Dad about going ice fishing. His Dad tells him tomorrow morning they will go and that he should never, ever go ice fishing alone (instant red flag). So that night while they laid in bed together, the Dad reads the little boy a story. This story is basically about a Fisherman, His Wife, and an Enchanted fish. The Fisherman tells his Wife of the Enchanted fish he threw back into the water after she begins to yell at him for not bringing any fish home. After she hears of the wish, she orders her husband back to the water to make a wish to the fish. He reluctantly goes back and sure enough the fish grants her wish of a bigger house. As the story goes on, the wife is never happy and continues to order her husband back to the lake to make more wishes, each one granted. The story ends after one or two wishes for the night, because Jonas falls asleep.

The next morning, Jonas wakes up before his Father, took the story book, and ripped the picture of the Fish out of it. Then he took the fishing gear and headed out to the ice. He finally found a spot to his suiting and as he chipped away at the ice, he said the poem asking for the fish to come to him and grant his wish for his parents to fall back in love with one another. I won't spoil the ending, but I will say that there was about an 82.7% chance I was crying at the end.

I really enjoyed this film because not only did it absolutely break my heart, but the actual set up of the film was immaculate. The director has such beautiful scenes with the massive amounts of white snow as the backdrop and doesn't try too hard with the contrast of color throughout the film. The simple color contrast of a little boy in his brown coat tugging fishing supplies behind him is already so beautiful in one frame alone that I was very relieved she didn't try and throw in some sort of loud, bright color. The other amazing set up that I loved was that since the story really ended early to the audience when Jonas fell asleep, the director used a voiceover of the Father continuing the story throughout the rest of the film. We'd hear more developments in the story as the day of fishing went on for Jonas. The climatic parts of the film were synchronized with the climatic parts of the story, all up until the very end when we learn that the moral of the fishing story is that "you cannot always have what you wish for," but at that moment it is too late for our precious Jonas to learn that lesson. That ladies and gentlemen, is when you find yourself looking for tissues because all of a sudden you are bawling your eyes out while the end credits run up the screen.

All in all, I definitely had a very pleasant evening at the DC short film festival and hope all of y'all did too!

SIGN LANGUAGE

SIGN LANGUAGE

Directed by Oscar Sharp, United Kingdom, 2010, 5 minutes

Sometimes, the people who need the signs, are the ones holding them. Not only is this film charming, heartfelt, and beautifully upbeat, but it forces the viewer to look at the world and people differently. This film is about Ben, a "static outdoor information technician", or more simply, a sign holder, who loves is career and stands on Oxford Street in London. Ben is aware of the camera--allowing his joy for his career and coworkers to jump off of the screen. He informs us about his promotion, which he is excited for and starting the next day, and expresses his admiration for his coworkers who are displayed less enthusiastically than himself. Ben shares with us the history of Oxford Street and the origins of his job--he is a third generation sign holder and he is standing in the same spot as his grandfather and father before him. Also, we discover his crush for a non-union female worker handing out flyers across the street from him that he is too nervous to talk to.

This film is full of emotion: love, disappointment, and joy. The viewer immediately knows how Ben feels about his crush handing out flyers because he takes a flyer, even though he does not need one, stares at her longingly from across the street, and because we realize that they have on the same rainbow-striped gloves. The sames gloves not only hint to the viewer that they belong together, but that they are almost holding hands throughout the film. The viewer experiences disappointment with Ben twice throughout the film; 1) when they view the unhappiness of his fellow employees and, 2) when Ben's timer goes off signalling the end of his shift and Ben realizes that none of his comrades will give him a send off. Joy comes a few seconds after the disappointment, making it all the sweeter, when the other workers flip their signs over and tell him to go after the girl.

This film is important because it presents a person, working in what is considered a low position, but is immensely happy with his life. Ben's positive attitude reminds viewers to appreciate the little things in life and to respect everyone, no matter what their position in life. This short film, that was edited down to enter the Virgin Media Shorts film competition in 2010 (it was always a short film though), is full of life that would not have supported an hour long film, but gracefully tells a story in a 5 minute span.

Red Rabbit

Red Rabbit

Directed by Egmont Mayer, Germany, 2009, 8 minutes http://vimeo.com/4949853

There is a man with an extremely large rabbit in his apartment. We're given no information about where this rabbit came from, how it got so big, or why the man seems so concern with keeping the rabbit and hiding it from everyone else. It doesn't sound like much of a story.

But I think that Egmont Mayer does a great job of creating a story with a surprising amount of depth without telling the audience anything. He establishes the man's isolation from the world with one shot of the lock he has put on his door. He also does a great job showing the man's complicated relationship with the rabbit. The man is embarrassed, affectionate and covetous of the rabbit, all at the same time.

In his description of the film, Mayer describes the rabbit as representing "habits that start out small and grow into something life threatening[.]" And suddenly we all recognize the story being told. We all have a friend who starting playing too many video games or got a little too in to collecting something. And they shut themselves off with their growing rabbit. When you read this into the film, the story fills out. That's what I love about this movie. That and the giant rabbit.

TERCERO B

TERCERO B (Apartment 3B)
Directed by José Mari Goenaga, Spain, 2002, 19 minutes
(Please note that the embedded film does not contain English subtitles.)

With frenetic graffiti slicing across the screen accompanied by the eerie, staccato screech of dissonant strings, José Mari Goenaga's Tercero B announces its Hitchcockian intentions right from the opening credits. The camera pans right across the graffitti'd wall to reveal a placid beach, where a middle-aged woman, Irene (played brilliantly by Blanca Portillo, perhaps most famous for Almodóvar's Volver and Broken Embraces), undresses to bathe in the winter sea. Some nearby young men, certainly looking unsavory, make her think twice about leaving her clothes and her purse -- and, seeing a man with a nicer sweater and a leather jacket reading a newspaper, she asks him to watch her things. He says yes. She comes back from her swim to -- naturally -- find both the man and her purse gone.

To describe the film any further would be to give away all the deliciously entertaining atmosphere that Goenaga gleefully -- and very quickly -- builds. Like the wall hiding the beach, nothing in this film is what it seems -- Irene, for example, lives with a monster of a mother, who treats her daughter like a doormat and refuses to lend her any money . The first half of the film sets up a tight narrative, then backs up at the two-thirds point to revisit the same narrative from another perspective. Despite the relatively short length, however, Goenaga develops Irene's sad-sack character just enough to make us care for her: she is not very pretty, yet she dresses up when there might be a chance (however sudden, however strange) for love, for getting away from her mother. Hitchcock sets up Marion in Psycho just to make us care when she gets the knife; Goenaga takes the same conceit in a different direction, with a tenser result.

The film is structured uniquely as well, getting us far into the action of the narrative before flashing the action back to the beginning to follow a different character. Indeed, we figure out that the characters have enlaced (trapped?) themselves in the titular apartment long before they do -- although we don't really know howmuch until it is far too late. Goenaga wisely does not show us everything at once, and the fun thrill of this film comes from suddenly learning a piece of information that we did not have before, information that alters everything we have thought about these characters up until that point. (Indeed, that happens several times within the very short duration of the film.)

The last shot is particularly thrilling: the camera sits around waist-level facing the kitchen, but still in the hallway looking in. When our characters each enter (and it is very difficult to type this without giving everything away), the spring-loaded door swings back, the pendulum motion slowly obscuring more and more of the long shot of the characters after they enter. Each time I watch this film, the sick part of my brain wants to hold the door open to watch the primeval forces battling behind it -- and yet, by leaving the spectator behind the doorway, Goenaga teases us into wanting more. Indeed, an ending like this actually denies us a proper response -- and opens up the opportunities for interpretation. Instead of opting for the quick and thrilling conclusion,  Tercero B forces us to reconsider our relationship what and how we view even the shortest of stories.

Fight the The Finish - Quintessential

Fight to the Finish (2007)
Directors: Steve Erdman, Zac Kind, and Daniel Wolfberg
Czech Republic, 9 minutes

This quintessential posting gives me a unique opportunity as a filmmaker to respond to a post about one of my own short films. Fight to the Finish was a film that Dan Wolfberg, Zac Kind, and myself made while studying abroad at FAMU in Prague during the fall of 2007. We spent the entire semester building this film up from the ground up. Interestingly enough, our original intentions were to make a comedy, but as our idea evolved the film became a powerful (hopefully) introspective drama. We were in charge of everything. After we finished the script, we spent a great deal of time location scouting, locating props (surprisingly hard to find boxing gear in Prague), and casting. We shot the film in three days (two in the park and one at an insane asylum (the film Hostile was shot there as well)Overall I am pleased with how the film turned out and what it turned into, but as Jose Goenaga pointed out with his short films; I see little things I would change. This is because I have spent so much time with the film and am looking at it with a different set of eyes than a first time viewer.

First and foremost, the Jeremy’s initial post about the film was very flattering and rewarding. Seeing someone else write academic praise about something we spent so much time on has been a really cool experience. Jeremy’s observations about subtext were quite accurate. Our advisors urged us to keep dialogue to a minimum and really “show” the audience everything. As a result we were forced to think of how to communicate almost everything visually. The wide spaces are indicative of his loneliness, the blue of his clothing communicate a coldness or sadness, asking the man to move to another bench (when there are many open ones) suggests his tradition of coming to the same place every year.

The list goes on and on, but it all adds up to the telling of the whole story. Jan and his wife loved each other but as time wore on he took her for granted and slightly neglected her. One day they got into a fight, and she died in a tragic accident. The last time they spoke to each other there was a lot of anger and blame. This sour ending, paired with his aging have worn old Jan down. He has almost no one, and approaching the end of his days. As a result Jan honors his anniversary by doing what they traditionally would when she was alive (this is why the nurse knows where he will be). This could be old Jan’s last trip to the park, and in a cathartic release with the boxing mitts, he lets out all of the frustration/sadness/loneliness/aging/etc, and comes to terms with things as they are, not as they were.

The park scenes get progressively higher in elevation until the end, and the wine scene take place at the top of a mountain with Prague castle in the background. The castle proved to be an interesting theme as the audience sees it several times throughout. This self inclusion of Fight to the Finish as “quintessential” is not an ego booster but an interesting opportunity for one of the film’s creators to shed some light on the creative process, our intentions, and our final thoughts on the film. I hope everyone enjoyed the film.

Quintessentials: Schwardsfahrer (1993)

By Pepe Donquart, Germany, 1993, 9 minutes 59 seconds
Won the 1993 Academy Award for Live Action Short Film
Source: You Tube

Original Blog Posted By Caren Jensen

Schwarzfahrer is a quintessential short film in its ability to confront an uncomfortable topic in a humorous way that is clever with a subtext. Every time I watch this film, I feel awkward for the other passengers as the elderly woman sits on the trolley spewing her bigoted thoughts. While they might disagree, not a single person is willing to disagree aloud except for a few punk kids but their immaturity in responding does nothing to reach the woman. It is not until the “Black Rider” eats her ticket, forcing her off the trolley, does anyone make an impact.

Upon first viewing, I expected the old woman to have a change of heart after the man did something incredibly gracious or respectable, but this is not a film about changing a person’s heart. Instead, Schwarzfahrer is about a changing time where the prejudiced mentalities of old are being replaced with more tolerant mindsets. Old woman and young black man are clear symbols of two generations, at least once removed. He does not have to protest out loud and make a statement through words. Above all, it is a film about silence.

The silence of the passengers while the old woman rambles on is their method of rejecting her beliefs. Their silence after the man eats the ticket is a symbol of their acknowledgement of justice. The old woman’s desire to voice her opinions further distanced her from group. The only person to openly acknowledge the ticket eating was the young boy who then looked to his mother for recognition. The mom’s choice to openly ignore the action served as a lesson to the young boy about the despicable nature of the elderly woman.

Some of the best short comedy films typically act as a long joke building to a punchline. Schwardzfahrer is a clear-cut example of this but dares to be more than just a joke but a statement. While the statement might seem superfluous today in light of recent events, this film still holds something true when put in context of 1993 Germany. However, it is still an enjoyable film to watch today and a prime example of how short films can be more than just entertainment.

Yu Ming is Ainm Dom

My Name Is Yu Ming

Atom.com: Funny Videos Cinematic Comedy Festival Hits

Yu Ming is Ainm Dom (My Name is Yu Ming)
Directed by Daniel O'Hara, Ireland, 2003, 13 minutes.
Source: Google Video

I'm choosing My Name is Yu Ming as my quintessential film because of its length (a succinct 13 minutes), its intelligence and great sense of story (a bored Chinese student who dreams of a life elsewhere, chooses Ireland after a spin of the globe, and travels to his fate), its poignant music and extremes of color and light (which I think evoke a kind of sense of melancholy or even dream-like state to the proceedings), its twisty ending, and even for the possibilities it represents within the world of short film (an Irish production, mixing with Chinese language, focused on the promotion of Gaelic-toned art). It's one of my favorites of the term.

Raissa was the first to post on this and provided the key plot details, so I'd rather build on what makes this film so compelling. For starters, there's an undertone of magical realism to the film, of a boy on one side of the world opting for a trip through the transnational Looking Glass to search for his Magic Grail (the luck of the Irish?) At first, he only finds a sense of bafflement, and the filmmakers capture this perfectly by aligning two crucial scenes on either end of the planet. In China, Yu Ming practices his Gaelic while eating his lunch with chopsticks and then his "you talking to me?" lines in the mirror (all to some peppy music). Later, in Ireland, he's fumbling with a pair of faux metal chopsticks (his solution for the confounding newness of a fork and spoon) and uttering his Taxi Driver quote to a mute statue (as the music shifts to a sadder register). The effect of all this layering is to build a real sense of empathy with Ming, and a connection from his hopeful past to his gloomy present. Ming is also continually isolated from everyone in the film (his boss, the hostel clerk, the barman, and even the librarian, who expresses annoyance at his tampering with her precious globe) until he finds the sympathetic Paddy at the bar. He's the stranger in the strange land.

But there's also the deeper tones to My Name is Yu Ming, the reverberations of themes that echo beyond its short moment on the screen. There's the fascinating concept of a Chinese boy (an owner of the most spoken language in the world) attempting to learn one of the lesser-spoken languages of Western Europe, because of an assumption from an imperfect library book (a foible of our great, new communications age?) Then there's the film's look at the globalization patterns in the world that push many to seek an escape/a job/romance far away, and that in turn create a confusing amalgamation on the streets of any lonely city. Yu Ming isn't the only expat wandering about Dublin - there's an Aussie working the front desk of the hostel, and a Mongolian "Chinese" kid trying to get his money out of the soda machine. Even Paddy looks a bit lost in the bar, sitting apart with his thoughts - perhaps he's just another melancholic wanderer like Ming? The connection between the two is priceless, and comes at the perfect time in the film, 10 minutes in, when the audience is really starting to wonder what will come of all this.

I think there's also a great sense of hope for shorts when you consider the effect of this film on the young company that made it - Dough Productions, based in Dublin, won 18 awards with My Name is Yu Ming and now specializes in Gaelic-themed stories. The two other films on its website include Fluent Dysphasia, about a father who wakes up one day to find that he can only speak Irish (and thus connects with his daughter, who's studying it in school), and Paddywhackery, an ongoing series about a man, his Irish-language business ventures, and Peig Sayers, a Gaelic-speaking ghost character out of Ireland's schoolbooks. The low expenses, and exploratory possibilities, of short film, are what make this kind of culturally-rich film possible.

Erin Go Bragh, Yu Ming!

English Language (with English Subtitles)

This film was originally brought up on the blog in the context of the DC shorts film festival. This was my favorite film of that showcase, and I wanted go back to it to look at it a bit more closely. As we worked through the semester, I kept coming back to this film because I kept seeing new ways to look at it.

My favorite part of the film was the role of the subtitles. At my first viewing, I was so intrigued by the way that they started as conventional subtitles, but then took on new roles like adding inner monologue, interacting directly with the characters, acting as advertising, and then taking on their usual role but with a twist. Recently, this struck me as I was writing my paper about shorts challenging the rules of traditional film. Whoever said the subtitles had to say exactly what the film says? Whoever said the subtitles can't be a character? Subtitles are something film viewers take for granted when another language is being spoken in a film. This film provides subtitles for the silent languages, like the audience's expectations and desires, the subtext, and the musicians that get hired to play in the film. Usually, they are a familiar friend (or foe) that we expect to follow a particular form. This film takes something as obligatory as subtitles and gives them new life as something totally unfamiliar. Shorts allow for this kind of experimentation, and in this case it worked to great effect. It took me by surprise at first, but after a while it didn't seem so strange. The subtitles added a refreshing sense of self-awareness of the frankly overused plot line the film followed. I love films that can make fun of themselves, so I loved when the subtitles mocked the atypical lover's silent argument in bed that I see so often in couple-centric movies lately. I wish more filmmakers could take a step back and make fun of themselves every once in a while.

Another interesting element of the film was the way it morphed in the middle into nothing other than a music video, as seen in the clip above. The song is called "Afterglow" by Barbarossa, as described by the subtitles. The subtitles take on a new role, providing information on the song title and the band and where it can be bought, just like the small blurb at the bottom of music videos at the beginning and end. In class we classified music videos as shorts, so if that's the case, this segment is like a short within a short (which I don't think we talked about). This segment could very easily stand on its own in my opinion, but also enhances the short as well. This brings up the question: Are shorts indivisible or can shorts have other shorts within them?

This film was my favorite because it was clever to my untrained eye at the time, but I like it so much more now because there is even more for me to see after a semester in this class, so in that sense, I consider it my quintessential.

An Insult with a Lesson in Diplomacy

Por que no te callas (Why don't you shut up!)
Source: youtube.com


I've decided to talk about Raissa's post way back at the beginning of the semester about a commercial for Suncom Wireless. Since it is in Spanish, I will repost Raissa's translation of the commercial before I say anything more.

President Hugo Chavez of Venezuela would not back down during the speaking time of the Spanish delegation. He kept insulting the Spanish Prime Minister, Jose Luis Rodriguez Zapatero, with regards to his predecessor Jose Maria Aznar. In a response to Chavez's behavior, the King of Spain, Juan Carlos I, YELLED at Chavez, "why don't you just shut up!" The video continues by saying "Wanna keep talking? Don't worry, Suncom wireless has all types of plans for you including call waiting." The exchange of words between King Carlos and President Hugo Chavez took place ON November 10, 2007 at the Ibero- American Summit in Santiago, Chile.

I picked this particular short film because I think that it gets at the essence of the difference between short films and film as a document and shows how our (or at least my) definition of a short film has expanded during the semester. Short film is something I thought of as a generally artsy and exclusive club, but it is no such thing. Music videos clearly belong to the short film club as do commercials. However, what starts to muddle the short film category is when we introduce Youtube and home videos in general into the mix and whether they should be determined as something different than the traditional short film. Youtube videos may be a bit coarser in various ways, but film is a title that suits them well.

This commercial illustrates the line between documentation and film well. The recording of the various diplomats was captured to show people, either in the news or in a live broadcast, what was going on at the meeting and to generally provide information for reporting. However, that documentation was then manipulated by Suncom to create a commercial and, consequently, a short film.

While the commercial turns out relatively fancy, the line between documents and short films is one easily broached without a large budget. The Youtube short, Charlie bit my finger - again!, illustrates my point. That moment of film was presumably caught as part of a larger recording documenting the two brothers. When the filmer saw that moment and decided to share it with the world, he changed that documentation into a film by editing which parts were to be shown. Even if the filmer only caught that particular moment, the mere act of putting it on Youtube transforms it by allowing it to be subject to the public gaze. The idea of the public gaze is one way to transforms a document by making the filmer self-conscious of his or her film as something that now stands on its own independent of the filmmaker. Previous to posting the document on Youtube (or any other film-sharing website), people who would have seen the document from a similar perspective of the filmer since they would be close to the situation. This shows film as a transformation from the private view of the cameraman to the public view of an audience which is free to inteprete the film in many different ways. This is perhaps one way to show how Youtube movies (and home videos) can move beyond documentation into film and documentaries even without the idea of editing.

7:35 DE LA MAÑANA

7:35 de la Mañana
Dir. Nacho Vigalondo, Spain 2002, 8:02min
Source: www.735am.com and YouTube

Generally, I have a problem with directors who decide to be the main character of their films. I think they can have stronger pieces when they concentrate their energy on writing the script and directing the rest of the cast (cameos are ok). But, Nacho Vigalondo and his 7:35 de la Mañana (7:35 here on) are making me reconsider that, at least for shorts.

In 7:35 El Tipo (the guy) is played by Vigalondo himself, El Tipo decided that the best way to get the attention of La Mujer was to serenade her with an original song. Good idea. As the song moves through the stances, we realize that the people in the café are being held hostage and forced to sing and dance. Not a good idea. At the end, El Tipo stands in front of the door while singing “but like the best things in life this song begins and this song ends”, he walks out to face the cops and blows him self up. Terrible idea.

But Vigalondo’s idea (decision) to be El Tipo is, after all, not so terrible. For a short that relies so much on performance, he took a big risk. El Tipo needed to be different yet similar to the customer-hostages, i.e. a normal guy who buys his coffee every day at 7:35am and who can blend in enough that he can stalk La Mujer. The customer-hostages are all as stiff as can be and while there’s still certain awkwardness or nervousness in El Tipo, his movement flows with the also tongue-tied tune.

When it comes to describing the short some people say that it is funny, hilarious, etc., and others say that while it is funny, there is something that is off, that they can’t quite point at, tongue-tied themselves. I had almost the same feeling and I attribute it to the song, and the short’s ending. 7:35 is a musical and as such we want it to be happy, a full-fledged act but that is denied to us. The hostages are not happy, and it certainly does not end on a happy note. We want to see the color of the confetti as it rains over La Mujer, but the lack of color is just making it more poignant.

In away the intensity of its poignancy, the sweet-and-sour aftertaste will depend on the viewer’s knowledge and how they interpret the film. Personally, knowing that this film is from El Pais Vasco, and that the vasc region has dealt with terrorist attacks and suicide bombers since the late 50s, plus, knowing about the March 11 Madrid attacks adds a political commentary to it. And, while I don’t think it was Vigalondo’s intent to make a political film, he does have the background and the parallelism is undeniable. But, had I seen 7:35 at its release in 2002 I would probably have seen it more as a commentary on the loss of the sense of community in the Spanish culture. The “cafeterias” are common in Spain, kind of your local coffee shop but as El Tipo sings people seems to be “always in hurry, and always alone” moving more towards tall-skim-caramel-macchiato rush out the door style. But aside from the political or social commentary readings of the film, I agree with some of the comments on the first post about the film that it is ingenious thus deserving to be revisited this week.

Rain Shower (From My Sassy Girl)

Directed by Jae-yong Kwak, Korea, 2001, approximately 2 minutes

A short film Sonagi, Rain Shower in English, appears in My Sassy Girl, one of my favorite Korean romantic-comedy films. My Sassy Girl tells the story of a male college student, Gyeon-woo (Tae-Hyun Cha), and the girl (Ji-hyun Jun) who is never named in the movie. The girl is an aspiring scriptwriter and keeps sending her scripts to film companies. Throughout the movie, three different short films from different genres are played, and Sonagi is one of them. Sonagi is a short story by Soon-won Hwang and is made to a film in My Sassy Girl. In Sonagi, the rain shower symbolizes the short but heart-rending love between the boy and the girl. They like each other, but they cannot tell what they cannot express what they feel. One day, they spend some time together and are caught in a shower on their way home. The girl, who has weak health, catches a serious cold and soon dies. Before she dies, she asks her grandfather to bury her with her clothes on, the clothes that she was wearing on the day she met the boy.

In My Sassy Girl, the girl writes a new version of Sonagi, in which changes the end. She says that it should not end like this as Gyeon-woo mentions that the Koreans love sad films because of Sonagi. She comes up with a wild perversion of the short film. The dying girl in Sonagi asks that her lover be buried along with her even though he is still alive. The resulting situation is not only quite humorous, but also shows the girl's unusual personality well. In addition to that, Sonagi gives a hint about the girl and Gyeon-woo's love story.

The girl in My Sassy Girl is very pretty and seems sweet and nice. In fact, the actress Ji-hyun Jun, who plays the girl, is always mentioned in the list of Korea’s most beautiful actress. However, contrary to her appearance, her personal characteristics are out of the common. For example, she makes her boy friend put on her high heels just because her feet hurt and she wants him to feel the same. Gyeon-woo cannot say no and puts on the heels without any complaint. She also slaps Gyeon-woo's face in the subway when he loses their bet. As the original Korean title That Bizzare Girl says, she is bizzare. The plotline of Sonagi is supposed to be very romantic, and has made a lot of Koreans cry because of the boy and the girl's touching love story. Nevertheless, the girl changes the ending into something like a horror film. That moment is the one of the scenes that clearly shows how bizzare she is.

In addition to that, the short film Sonagi also implies the short love story of the girl and Gyeon-woo. However, although Sonagi has a sad ending, My Sassy Girl ends with a happy ending. In the original version of Sonagi, the girl and the boy cannot confess their love to each other, and their love story ends as the girl dies. Their love is as short as a rain shower that soaks them on their way home. In My Sassy Girl, Gyeon-woo and the girl love each other but do not say it. They just hang out together like friends. The movie consists of Part One and Part Two, and in Part Two, the girl and Gyeon-woo break up because of the girl's father's demand although they have liked each other for a short period of time. Nonetheless, the story does not end in the way Sonagi does. They meet two years later by chance in a blind date through Gyeon-woo's aunt's mediation and live happily ever after.

Sonagi in My Sassy Girl appears about only 2 minutes in the movie. Still, the short film affects the story of My Sassy Girl. It provides a hilarious scene, as well as describes unusual personality of the girl by changing the ending of the film. No one would imagine the ending of Sonagi in that way. In addition to that, the film insinuates the relationship between the girl and Gyeon-woo. The story of Sonagi makes the viewers think that they will not get together and the movie will not end happily. However, in spite of Sonagi's sad ending, My Sassy Girl ends happily, and that makes the viewer satisfied after watching the movie.

Don't Leave Me Hanging

Don’t Leave Me Hanging
Director: Simon Gibney
Script, Producer: Paddy Courtney


Don't Leave Me Hanging from Virtual Cinema on Vimeo.


I found this short film, Don’t Leave Me Hanging, on the Irish Film Board’s website in their virtual cinema section. I decided to write about it because this film stood out the most. The other films were funny or cute but this one had a strong message attached to it and the production quality helped to enhance this message.
Don’t Leave Me Hanging was made in part with an organization called Aware. This is a voluntary organization in Ireland which provides support for people battling depression. The video is focused on raising awareness for this issue. It sends a message to people who are not suffering from depression to be aware of others and literally not to leave them hanging.
In the film a young boy, Gary, walks home from school. It is obvious that he does not have very many friends and when he arrives at home his mother ignores him while she is cooking. The film would switch perspectives going from an “outsider” to Gary’s view. When this would happen there is an obvious switch in styles. The colors become less saturated and the vision less steady. The edges of the screen become black and fade to create a circle of vision and the audio is muffled by a hum.
In the end Gary hangs himself. This doesn’t really come as a surprise because it is built up the entire film. Especially with the dramatic switch of perspectives I feel the ending was not a shocker. But at the same time, I see that is the purpose of the film. Depression isn’t something that randomly hurts people. A lot of the time it is seen as a progression and without the help and understanding provided the end could be like Gary’s. That is the message I am gathering from this production by the Irish Film Board. It is important to talk to teenagers (Gary is 14) and make sure they understand that you are there for them. Clearly in this film, Gary’s mom was a busy person. When he walks into the house, she does not even say hi to him. The only line of dialogue in the film is her asking him to wait till she is done cooking. The disappointment on Gary’s face when he smiles at her and she doesn’t notice is heartbreaking.

I think it would be interesting to see this story in a longer narrative format and learn more about the characters but its message wouldn’t be as strong in a longer format. I feel the short film has a sense of power where it can strike hard and fast where a longer film would have to drag out the message. The story would be so built up and we as an audience would become so involved that Gary’s life would not represent the numerous amounts of people that struggle with depression. In a longer film, Gary’s life and depression would become his own and it would be harder to relate his story to others like him.

All in all, I enjoyed this production. I think it is a very important topic and this internet video was a strong way to promote awareness for this particular issue. The “internet video” is something that large amounts of people have access to and is a great source for viral marketing. Another reason this video works as an internet piece is because of its length. When it comes to the internet people want to be able to navigate as quickly as possible. If the movie was longer, their attention span might not last. This short film works to the internet users advantage with its short quick message allowing them to move on or to become inspired and check out the link at the bottom of the bio, directing them to www.aware.ie.

There's Only One Sun

There's Only One Sun | Wong Kar-Wai
by YforYerom
There's Only One Sun

Directed by Wong Kar-Wai, Hong Kong, 2007

Approx. 10 minutes

Source: Dailymotion.com

The most interesting thing about this short is its intent and means of distribution. Last year, the Philips electronics corporation planned to unveil an exciting new product for the home theater market. Called the Aurora, the product was a new high-definition television set with an interesting new feature. Philips' groundbreaking "ambilight" technology would read the colors at the frame's edge of whatever media is currently being played on the screen, and then project a light of matching color from behind the television set onto the walls and room surrounding it. The idea was to create a more immersive viewing experience, by expanding the presence of the material on screen into the greater space of the home. It's pretty cool stuff, and Philips was burdened with the task of adequately translating the appeal of this new feature through marketing.

This is where Hong Kong auteur Wong Kar-Wai steps into the picture. At the time, Wong's last film was a dark and beautiful romantic sequel to his critically acclaimed 60s period piece, In The Mood For Love (2001). The new film, entitled 2046, was also predominantly set in 1960s Hong Kong, but a large subplot of the film concerned itself with a strange futuristic fantasy story illustrating the writings of the film's main character.  For those unfamiliar, Wong Kar-Wai (WKW from now on) has a propensity for creating intoxicatingly rich, dreamlike, sensual moving images in his films that compliment his improvisational production techniques as well as his usual themes of unfulfilled love, memory, and chance. So, having just released 2046 to critical acclaim and an admirable commercial success, Philips approached WKW to make an original short film in the style of his last feature to demonstrate the qualities of their new product.

The result is the film you can view above, a fantastically colorful and sexy piece, that virtually oozes WKW's signature dream-like atmosphere. Unfortunately, you can no longer view the film in the entirely unique manner in which Philips originally devised. The picture was released exclusively on the net, on a site devoted specifically to the launch of the new product. What made the project a unique success was a virtual simulation of the Aurora television itself, complete with simulated ambilight technology to demonstrate the practical functionality of the device. There's Only One Sun streamed on the website within its virtual television set, and as the extravagantly colorful scenes unfolded viewers could see the lighting render in real time. How better to demonstrate a new screening feature than to show it to the people? And how better to show it to as many people as possible than through the internet?

What's also fascinating is the lengthy pre-marketing-marketing that gradually build interest and hype for the reveal of the product and WKW's short film itself. Various stages of the website came online in the months leading up to the unveiling, featuring cryptic clues and savvy advertising lingo to get people excited. I believe at one point there was a sort of newsletter/fan-club section where members could access exclusive images from the film and other behind-the-scenes things like that (I can't say for sure what the exact sequence of pre-advertising consisted of since most of the website have long since closed down). On some date closer to the launch of the film, they even released a teaser trailer for the short featuring about 30 seconds of footage. The whole affair played out like a legitimate Hollywood pre-release strategy, though the entire thing unleashed online and for a short film.

lt's worth looking at the film itself a bit more closely as well, considering how it ties directly into the marketing theory of the whole ordeal. WKW has pretty openly embraced advertising within his feature films (His second film, Days of Being Wild, opens with Leslie Cheung buying a Coke, Fallen Angels sets a pivotal scene inside a McDonalds, and WKW even made one of those fun BMW "The Hire" shorts also made for the net) as well as worldly pop music and an ideology fully supportive of a capitalist Hong Kong. As such, it's not surprising that the Aurora television set itself plays a key role in the film it's advertising. The protagonist, having infiltrated the trust of a criminal mastermind in order to kill him, arrives at a strange organic-looking hallway bathed in light, the source of which being the Aurora. She muses on the power of the screen to sustain the life of memories indefinitely while they fade and die outside. WKW imbues the medium and technology itself with a sort of mystical appeal and value, the Philips product being a relevant and associatively forward-thinking construct of that power. The female spy missing "Light", her target and (this being a WKW film after all) love, presses her body up against the screen associating its warmth with that of her lost lover. If that doesn't sell a TV, I don't know what will.

Ultimately, I can't help but admire this short (being a devoted WKW fanatic) and its ingenious marketing plot (being... a savvy consumer?). There's one point where I realize I'm looking at a television set in a film... that's being shown within a virtual simulation of that same television set... that I'm then viewing on my computer monitor... that I sure as hell wish were a Philips Aurora television set, because those things are frickin' sexy!

Alice

Directed by Jan Svankmajer
TRT: 6:00
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C5wHMgTPF-s
Source: YouTube

Winner of the Australian-Asia Literary Award, Svankmayer's Alice is a haunting, surrealist tale of a little girl who loses herself in a fantastic daydream. The short is obviously a creative spin-off of the Alice in Wonderland tale except Svankmajer sets out to have fun with it by playing with stop-motion animation.

The Czech filmmaker has an international reputation for his stop-motion animation shorts, which include among others Jabberwocky, The Male Game, and Down to the Cellar. A common thread through all of these films which is signature for Svankmayer is using stop-motion to create a visceral, unnerving feel for any type of cinematic enviornment.

In Alice viewers may find it shocking at first to see a stuffed rabbit come to life and break free from its model cage. As this is happening, we directly connect with the little girl, Alice, who is frightened and yet interested to see what the rabbit will do next. The story itself of course requires you to suspend disbelief and allow yourelf to become absorbed in the world and imagination of this girl.

One of Svankmajer's most succcessful techniques at achieving this is through the sound design. In a certain sense, the sound design is ironic in nature because it doesn't rely on music or artificial sound. Instead it attempts to be faithful to what's happening on the screen by maintaining a diegetic sound design. The film starts off with Alice throwing rocks into a cup of coffee with the sound of the splash being the only noise in the room. This places us inside the basement with Alice and means we will be hearing and seeing exactly what she is through a subjective lens. We emotionally connect with this girl like we would with Ofelia from Pan's Labyrinth for instance.

The layering of the sound is also consistent with the intended surrealistic goal of the film. Each action of either the rabbit or the character is represented by a sound. The sound drives the narrative in this sense. For example, as the rabbit begins putting on clothes we hear the sound of his mechanical arms clanking and even the subtle friction sound of the clothes rubbing up against its fur.

In Svankmajer's The Male Game we are immersed into a world which the most important thing in the world happens to be what also is on television: a soccer match. With Alice, Svankmayer intends to achieve a similar atmosphere of an enclosed environment by cutting us off from the rest of the world. Whether or not you like Alice, there's no denying the power of its relentless concept of imagination through the imagination of one girl.

L'Homme sans Tete (The Man Without a Head)

The Man Without a Head (2003)
By Juan Solanas, France, 18 Minutes

The Man Without a Head is a film about one fellow who is unlucky enough not to have a head (although he does have a nice tux). He lives in an ugly industrial landscape seen through dirty windows. We see him open an envelope with two tickets to the ball. He calls his date and then starts dancing for joy with even a little bit of tap-dancing thrown in. He seems to realize that he might need a head for this date to be successful and walks to the appropriate store. He tries on a couple of heads that don't quite work, but we don't see his final selection. He buys some flowers, and it off to his date. He sneaks into the bathroom to try the head on. It is quite the beautiful head, but the color of the head (black) does not match the rest of the (white) body so he goes to the date headless. The date ends up going well and the pair have a wonderful time.

The most striking aspect of the film the first time viewing it is the visuals. It apparently took four years to make and it is beautiful. The industrialized city the man lives in is suitably grimy. Many of the shot selections show off this setting, like a shot from the outside of the apartment looking in which highlights the years of buildup on the side of his apartment. The opening credits are a view from high above slowly coming closer to the ground, finishing with a cityscape view, which is also extremely well done. Everything has a tinge of yellow, adding to the effect.

However, the story is not quite as well done. The idea of people without heads is interesting but is a little confusing in the context of the story. Even though there is a store for heads, we see no other people in the movie lacking a head at any time. Some people even give the protagonist funny looks during the movie, even though it is clear that buying heads is something not uncommon.

One reason I chose this film is because of a quote from the director. "We're living is a period where cinema is a product; movies are becoming more and more commercialized. Short films are one of the last places for artistic freedom - they're important to celebrate just for that." While I disagree with the first half of the quote (cinema has always been a product and movies are essentially commercial), I will agree with the last half of the statement. Short films have certainly proved to be one of the best avenues for artistic adventure and film and hopefully they will continue to do so.

Fight to the Finish

Fight to the Finish (2007)
Directors: Steve Erdman, Zac Kind, and Daniel Wolfberg
Czech Republic, 9 minutes

My Wednesday class is Fiction Writing. When I read a short story by one of my classmates that does more "telling" than "showing," I feel like I want to shoot myself by the end of the second page. To put it simply, explicit and ham-handed exposition is boring and trite; subtext is beautiful.

Fight to the Finish is all about the subtext. Virtually all of Jan's lines are part of his attempt to remember and celebrate his glory years. He was a boxer, a husband, and an independent human being. He never says any of that explicitly. It comes out naturally in the mise-en-scene, in Jan's mannerisms and eccentricities, and in his monologue. Try it yourself: Start ticking off a few things you know about Jan before he states it, if at all.

He is a former boxer.
He currently lives in an assisted-living facility (or something like an asylum). He is no longer independent.
He is a local.
He has lost someone precious and is having trouble letting go.
He has a pretty darn good memory of that someone.
He has no friends.

Just as in short stories, the amount of "telling" in a movie can be an effective bellwether of how enjoyable the movie is. With some exceptions, as verbal exposition decreases, the movie's quality increases. Kevin Smith and Quentin Tarantino are two notables who arguably live outside this rule. I would contend that Tarantino is as good as anyone at showing exposition through on-screen action. His dialogue is highly stylized, less about exposition and more about character development. Kevin Smith is closer to the true exception, but his exposition comes out in naturally-delivered dialogue.

The exposition in Fight to the Finish comes out as he walks in large, empty spaces, a clear indication that he is lonely in the world (and logically consistent with his advanced age and residence in an assisted-living facility). It comes out as he reminisces about the good times he had with his late significant other. I'll also point out that the story never stops cold. That would be an inevitable symptom of a failure in natural exposition. The audience begins to zone out as the filmmaker tries to explain something direct to our ears. Film is a visual medium. The audience wants to see the story unfold naturally and contemplate it in context. That can't happen when you've stopped the story cold.

Fight to the Finish never fails that test. It is quiet reflection on film. It forces the audience to understand the subtext.

Candy and Brandy

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WuIyDDgVL7c

Candy and Brandy

Directed by Ander Duque

Spain, 2008 - approx. 8 min.

“Candy and Brandy” documents a couple’s breakup. However, the man and woman turn into children when they have their argument. The very adult nature of the fight is juxtaposed with these innocent looking children. The result is somewhat interesting.

When I watched this short for the first time, I felt the concept was somewhat tired. It is an interesting idea to put children in adult roles. I think it points out the somewhat ridiculous nature of seriousness that we so easily fall into in out adult lives. It reminded me of a short I saw a few years ago where children played the roles of a couple getting married. That however was a comedy.

This role reversal I feel may only work in the short format. The irony may not work in a feature film. While these children are actually very convincing actors, I as a viewer cannot suspend my disbelief. I am constantly analyzing what is happening on the screen to figure out the intent of the piece. The short does not take me into a world, or suspend my disbelief for a period of time; rather I have to work with the piece to draw meaning.

The first half of the short has no dialogue. We are shown a man and a woman, separately, getting ready for a date. The man is getting dressed and the woman, already ready, is reading a magazine. It isn’t until the two then children come together that we get any dialogue. This adds a somewhat universal aspect to the piece. The Spanish is introduced when the couple begins to argue. At this point, even without the subtitles or any knowledge of the language, you could understand what was going on.

I think the way the Spanish language is dealt with in this short says a bit about the intended audience. The English subtitles are in the film itself; they were not added afterwards. Also, the title, “Candy and Brandy,” only rhymes in English. When I looked up the film, there is an alternate title, “Sugus y Brandy.” However, the title that appears in the film itself is “Candy and Brandy.” Besides the fact that it rhymes, I have to wonder if this film is meant for an English-speaking audience primarily. If that is the case, what does that say about foreign language films being created specifically for viewing outside of the nation?

Christine Barndt

Concert of Wishes

Concert of Wishes

Directed by Krzysztof Kieslowski 

Poland, 1967  - approx. 16 minutes

Found on "Bleu" DVD (Miramax)

Krzysztof Kieslowski made a name for himself on the international market in 1991 with the release of The Double Life of Veronique, and would mark the end of his career with an emotionally epic trilogy of films themed after the three colors of the French flag (Bleu, Blanc, and Rouge respectively).  Each film was at least marginally focused on exploring the very virtues represented by those three colors; liberty for blue, equality for white, and fraternity for red.  Together, thanks to remarkable artistic work from Kieslowski and his collaborators, these three films capture what might be one of the broadest palates of human qualities and philosophies within a single cinematic project.  Many fans and critics quote the Three Colors trilogy as the pinnacle of the director's career,  thus it's fitting that Miramax chose this collection to offer up a sampling of Kieslowski's earliest work within the medium.  Through these student films one can see the seed of what would come to be, the beginning and the end together in one place.  Kieslowski himself would probably appreciate the metaphysical implications of how that sounds.

Concert of Wishes, made in 1967, is his third or fourth student film.  It follows a young couple who leave a wooded lake area (a popular recreational spot it seems) on a motorcycle.  It's somewhat unclear, but I gathered they were on their way to a concert or festival of some sort, since they spend an amount of time examining a tent and supplies.  The woman also comments on a busload of students resting at the lake, to the point of "Looks like they're going too."  Where are all these people going exactly?  I'm not sure, and I can't say it really matters all that much.  Kieslowski's attitude towards narrative remains anything but conventional.  Disinterested in telling clear-cut stories or developing plots, he choses to focus more on universal ideas via examination of intimate human moments.  Here, the young couple loses their tent along the road, and is found by the older yet decidedly less mature driver of the bus.  The woman makes up an obviously false excuse to go back to find it, and when they return, the driver offers to return the tent if the woman is given to ride along in the bus.  At first she accepts, but her boyfriend reject the offer, gives the driver his tent and leaves with his girlfriend.

Again, there's a question to be answered.  What does it all mean?  To be honest, I really don't know.  There's a clear sexual theme at work for one thing.  In the beginning of the film one of the students shyly watches the couple by the lake, fascinated by woman as she parts her hair. Later this same student mentions the tent immediately upon the couple's return and receives a good bullying for nearly spoiling the prank.  The large group of seemingly more masculine and physically adept students (under the leadership of their not-so-great role model teacher/driver) objectifies this woman in their barter, assigning her a purely sexual worth.  However, we can determine through his actions that this first young man sees her for her deeper value, and is cast as the outsider for it (No surprise that he wears the thickest glasses of the group, eh?)  

There's some  generational/age theme that remains incredibly pervasive, though, and I can't seem to shake it.  First, we have this driver, clearly older than any of his pose and the traveling couple, who comes off less mature than any character in the film.  In fact he freely distributes alcoholic beverages to each of his students, indulging himself even while driving.  Secondly, when the couple first realizes they've lost their tent, they stop among a large group of young children.  At first the man suggests his girlfriend stay there until he returns, but the camera studies the faces of these children with a chilly distain, suggesting something just isn't quite right here.  The man senses this too, and then decides they should go back for the tent together.  What is it with these groups of young people?  Can they never be trusted?  Are the young adult students the same as the pre-teen kids?  Likewise, is the grown man one in the same with the children?  Knowing Kieslowski they very well might all be the same, going back to his affinity for metaphysics.  This is expanded by a short scene where the couple passes an elderly man in a car, the man on the motorcycle making some remark as to how they (meaning the older generation) are inexperienced or immature drivers.  Is that really a cause for concern in 1967?  Didn't think so, but sure enough the camera captures the man swerving dangerously on and off the curb.

As I've said, I won't pretend to understand  this picture.  But it's interesting to note the early footprints here of familiar thematic and cinematic motifs that would survive his 30+ year career in filmmaking.  Perhaps what's most satisfying about this early piece is the already spectacular visual sense at work.  In another fitting correlation with the Three Colors trilogy, (which uses their respective colors quite prominently and deliberately in the art and cinematography of those films, the distinct contrasts between reds and blues and greens an important expressive function) this short demonstrates a keen awareness of the black and white dynamic in frame.  Most strikingly we close with a pair of shots; one of a boy on a bicycle walking a cow, the animal's swaths of pure black and pure white coexisting but never blending, the other shot of the man's helmet divided white on top and black on the bottom.  Is there significance here?  Again, I couldn't say, but the filmmaker's awareness of those sorts of designs is clearly present, and would become increasingly more prevalent in his future.

Prarambha

Prarambha (2007)
Directed by Santosh Sivan
Written by Rajesh Devraj
13 minutes, 50 seconds
Language: Hindi
Part of the AIDS Jaago (AIDS Awake) Series

Initially, I was set to find what I think is the impossible: a Bollywood short film. Instead, I came across these series of short films that acclaimed Indian directors worked together on. Mira Nair, Farhan Ahtar, Vishal Bhardwaj, and Santosh Sivan all made short films in order to make people aware of AIDS and HIV.

The film is straightforward and simple in its approach. Famous Indian dancer and choreographer Prabhu Deva leads as a truck driver who harbors an unknown stow-away in his cargo: a young child named Kittu who is in search of his mother. When they arrive in Mysore, they discover she is in the hospital in her final stages of AIDS. Kittu then reveals he cannot go back to school, because he has contracted HIV like his mother and father, and the school doesn't want him to return. The driver sets forth in making the school take Kittu back, and in the end, Kittu returns and is no longer shunned.

The common thread I heard with people who do not like foreign films is this: I don't like reading while I am watching. I personally don't understand why it's so difficult to read what is being said while watching something, but I can see how people who don't like text on their screen all the time are annoyed by subtitles.

So it benefits that this short film has a simple story to tell. With a short film and a straightforward plot, the need to make people ware of AIDS is done affective and comes across the screen well. This is because with a simple plotline like this, there really isn't much need to focus on the dialogue. The sentences are short, not dramatic, and not long. It's easier to follow along.

What also benefits is that the film is short. I think those who are not a fan of foreign feature lengths will like foreign short films better, because there isn't a lot of time in the film. It's short, to the point, and gets a plot told in a short amount of time, between a minute to fifteen minutes.

The only thing I find sad about the short film is that I feel like the plot is cliche and overdone. A boy going for his mother and finds out that she has AIDS -- and then we discover he himself is HIV positive -- hits the melodramatic cheese factor really high. It's still a cute short film, and it's effective demonstrating AIDS awareness is essential. However it's still predictable in its plotline.