Big Business

Big Business

Directed by James W. Horne, United States, 1929, 19 minutes
Source: Big Business, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer; Hal Roach Studios (VHS 3981)

The comic duo Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy did wonders for the popularity of the short film in the 1920’s and 30’s. In all, the pair appeared in over 70 shorts (silent and talkie). Of these, the silent Big Business and talkie The Music Box received the most official recognition (see final paragraph for more details). To watch Big Business (with Christmas-themed music), go here.

Big Business sets its comic tone early. A title card announces that the film is “A story of a man who turned the other cheek - and got punched in the nose.” We then get our first view of the back of (Stan) Laurel and (Oliver) Hardy’s car, packed with several Christmas trees, and after this, a face shot of the two in the front seat, in thick wintertime coats, looking about for customers in sunny California. Already, we know they’re facing an uphill battle.

This tightly-structured film takes us to three houses. At the first house, Stan aggravates an unmarried female customer by asking her “if you had a husband, would he buy a Christmas tree?” At the second house, Oliver pushes Stan aside, ignores a sign that says “no solicitors” by declaring “it’s personality that wins!” and then gets promptly whacked on the head with a hammer. The two will obviously have to combine their efforts.

At the third house, they try their luck with a particularly grumpy homeowner (common Laurel and Hardy foil James Finlayson) and end up getting into more trouble than they bargained for. Here, the movie switches into high gear “escalation and retaliation” comedy. Finlayson gets annoyed with Laurel after he appears for the umpteenth time at the door and lops off pieces of the Christmas tree. The pair retaliates by hacking off the numbers on his house, and the war is on. The rest of the film then becomes a tit for tat “You did what? Well, what if I do this?” raising-of-the-stakes between the two sides, which results in the total destruction of both Finlayson’s house and Laurel and Hardy’s car. Neighbors come to watch the battle, and bemused policeman sits and writes out a ticket before interrupting things.

In the end, Laurel and Hardy persuade everyone that they’re sorry when they break down crying. Finlayson starts to weep and Laurel hands him a cigar, saying “Merry Christmas.” When the policeman steps away, thinking all is done, he glances back and sees Laurel and Hardy laughing, knows they were not serious in their contriteness, and chases them down the street. Finlayson, who “turned the other cheek” at first, sits back to light up his victory cigar, only to have it blow up in his face (which takes us back to the beginning title card).

The film feels structurally perfect (with its three-house format) and is still very funny despite the passage of time (and has probably inspired more than a few imitators). The juxtaposition of these disparate elements (Christmas trees and California, good will and property destruction) works perfectly as a short comedy, and the deliberate manner in which both sides go about their childish war of one-upmanship is well-orchestrated and fascinating for the level of property destruction achieved (there were even rumors going around for some time that the crew destroyed the wrong house in the process of filming).

And the official recognition? Big Business was the first of only two Laurel and Hardy films (the other being the Oscar-winning The Music Box) to be selected for the Library of Congress’s National Film Registry (which recognizes films that are culturally, historically, and/or aesthetically significant). Not bad for 19 minutes of film.

Uno Degli Ultimi

Uno Degli Ultimi
Directed by Paul Zinder
Showcase 2 of the DC Short Films Festival


Uno Degli Ultimi (“One of the Last”) is a 12-minute long documentary directed by Paul Zinder (who, interestingly enough, is a professor at The American University of Rome. Holla!). This film was part of the Showcase 2’s block of awesomeness: PATH, One of the Last, and The Replacement Child. The lone documentary in the showcase, its warm tone allowed the audience’s emotions to slowly adapt from the humor of PATH to the dark but touching tone of The Replacement Child.

The film profiles Mauro Selvetti, an elderly Italian farmer who is as ripe as the produce he cultivates. We see the farmer crouched down, scooping up cherries and grapes from a farm he very clearly takes pride in. This subject piece works well because Selvetti looks at life through his work as a farmer. Most of us view farm work as dreaded manual labor. Selvetti wonders how he could do anything besides it.

The camerawork picks up on this, making the Italian countryside the backdrop of the film. As Selvetti relays his views of the world, Zinder shows us close-ups of the farmer picking potatoes from the ground and climbing tree to shake out mass amounts of olives. There are long, panning shots as well, but they always have Selvetti in them. This element works particularly well considering how much the film is about its subject. I found myself fascinated by Selvetti and his work. I couldn’t help but think of my great grandfather, an Italian farmer from Fardella, Italy, enjoying himself the same way Selvetti does.

As the credits rolled, I questioned whether or not the film would work as a feature. It probably wouldn’t, as it is so subject-intensive and involves no action or conflict. To me, that says a lot about the strengths and abilities of shorts over features.

Surrendering Seamen

1:45
Comedy/Animation
United Kingdom

Showcase 5 had some memorable shorts - but for me, "Surrendering Seamen" stuck out the most. At under two minutes long, the director managed to use a simple setting of one man in a boat helping a stranded man in his boat. While this seems like a straightforward premise, the film team's editing skills is really where the genius behind this film came forward. Through editing and a narrator, a new story and plot came forward. It reminded me of those Japanese obstacle course shows that are aired stateside, with English voice overs that completely mock and turn each act into hilarity, even though its far from what the original intention of the video is.

Through this genius editing, "Surrendering Seamen" begins with one man approaching a stranded man, each man in a boat. The narrator, well, narrates the exchange, indicating that as one man is mocking the other for being in a broken boat, the other man rants about how big of a slut the man's sister is, and it just implodes afterwards. In the end, they each help eachother, and all seems to be forgiven between these two seamen.

It wasn't until after the short ended that it dawned on me that this video was quite possibly just a scene with no planning. What I mean by this is if it hadn't been for the editing technique, this would just be an everyday scene, something that would be equally exciting as watching someone change a tire or load groceries into their car. It's an interesting idea that many film makers toy with - extracting artistic practicality from everyday scenes. I felt caught up in the relationship between the two seamen through the passion behind the narrator's exchange. It gave life to this everyday event that was worth remembering.

Plus, it was hilarious.

The Third Parent

Showcase #8 at the DC Short Film Festival didn’t seem to have a consistent theme amongst the films.  Each film was a surprise as to whether it would be funny, dramatic, political, or even a musical.  At first it was an offsetting blend of films but seemingly random nature of each film brought a little more curiosity as to the contents of the next piece.  However, there were only a couple standouts in the whole showcase, one of them being a documentary entitled The Third Parent.

The Third Parent is a seemingly low-key documentary about the relationship between an 11 year-old girl, Ariana, and her 5 year-old autistic brother, Marcello.  The film centers around Ariana as she found it her obligation to raise her little brother with little help from her parents.  It’s never clearly stated as to where the parents are but Ariana consistently alludes to the notion that they’re rarely around, whether it be at work or just “staying out late.”  Ariana’s a girl whose childhood ended with the birth of her brother and she was forced to grow up too fast.

Ariana seems to have accepted her role as the “third parent” but there’s still sadness in her voice when she speaks of her absence from sleepovers, parties, and other activities kids her age participated.  She shows nothing but love for Marcello but there is still resentment for the situation.  We witness Ariana dealing with her brother’s tantrums and violent outbursts but we’re also let into some of the more endearing moments between the two siblings.

The Third Parent was an effective documentary because the filmmaker never showed anyone besides Ariana and her brother.  In one scene we could hear their father, frustrated, yelling at Marcello while Ariana sits on her bed reading but then Marcello enters the room because he’d much rather be with his sister than his parents.  It’s a tragic situation and the parents’ absence in their children’s lives is magnified by a world that consist solely of young girl and her little brother.

7:35 de la Manana

By Nacho Vigalondo (8:02)

“7:25 de la Manana” or in English, “7:35 in the Morning” is a short film basically about a guy who is trying to impress a girl, but fails epically. First of all, he goes about it entirely the wrong way. Every guy should know that dreaming up a hostage situation in order to get a girls attention is a big no-no.

From the opening scene of the black and white film, the viewer gets that something in the café is a little off. The silent and unusually cold greeting between the object of the psychopath’s affections and the café owner is only the first tip off. The story progresses when a random man breaks out into song and the customers are forced to sing their part with their lines taped into the palm of their hands. The woman’s suspicions are raised further when she spots a stack of cell phones under the counter and the waiter gives her a wary look. The short film continues on with a song and dance number which reveals the man is wearing a bomb, and ends with a blow-up finale complete with confetti.

“7:35 de la Manana” was nominated for an Oscar in 2004. The whole way through the short film I was laughing. I found the situation, music, and stiff dancing ingenious. After seeing it for the first time, I immediately went home and tried to show it to all my friends (but unfortunately I had scarred all of my friends by showing them “Spider” from two weeks ago, and most of them refused to watch). While watching this short I definitely had one of those, “why didn’t I think of that?” moments. Out of the rest of this films showed during the Spanish Short Films screening, this one definitely stayed with me. I found it to be the most enjoyable film of that viewing (“Wavelength” coming in a close second).

A Day's Work

Czech Republic
13 minutes
Directed by Edward Feldman



Midway through the uneven collection that was Showcase 5 at DC Shorts, one film really put the audience in a stranglehold: the Czech short "A Day's Work." Shot in high contrast black and white, the film unravels with the slow, languid pace of a dream. It's beautiful, moving, and strangely funny. Based on the audience's reaction, it was clear by the end that almost everyone in the audience had found themselves under its unique spell.

The plot is as follows: A young woman is having a terrible day. Her babysitter bails out on her at the last minute so she must take her son to work, and then on top of that she misses her bus. When she arrives at work, we find that she has been hired for a one-time voiceover gig for an American film (the woman is Czech). A pompous director and his assistant (this humorous moment was certainly not lost on the industry-types in the audience) attempt to give her her motivation for the scene, but their efforts at communication are lost on the woman. When the men in the booth finally hit the record button, we see that the scene calls for the Czech woman to provide the voiceover for a woman who is crying hysterically. And then, in a haunting medium shot that lasts for an uncomfortably long amount of time, we watch the Czech woman let out all of her frustrations (many of which we have not seen in the digesis of the film and can only assume) and cry her eyes out. At the close of the film, she and her son begin their walk back home in the cold evening.

When compared with "A Day's Work", most of the other short in Showcase 5 felt like one-note films. This short has such a peculiar and unforgettable tone: it's simultaneously both funny and sad, and it's incredibly relatable. I had an incredible feeling of catharsis once the credits began to roll. Though it only spans about 13 minutes, the viewer has been on what feels like a much longer emotional journey with this woman, and once she has let her pain out through crying, we feel a release as well. The film is structured very effectively; it withholds information from the viewer (we never know where she's going or why she's going where she is until she gets there), but it pulls you by the hand and commands you to follow it wherever it's going, no questions asked.

Niña Quebrada

NIÑA QUEBRADA
Written and Directed by Jen Kleiner, USA, 2007, 23 min
Source: DC Shorts Showcase 1

Afternoon, Mexico, somewhere near the US border; Lucena and her “loving and caring” boyfriend Tomas are planning to run away. Evening, Lucena on her way to out to meet Tomas has an argument with her dad because her clothes are inappropriate. Still evening, the couple meets Robert an American who has fake passports for them; the three cross the border. Morning, Lucena wakes up alone and naked in a dingy room, Tomas’ is nowhere to be found; instead Melinda her “owner” tells Lucena that she paid a lot for her, so she better get to work.

At first glance, the film is set to be yet another American Dream film, pretty-girl-and-loving-boyfriend-live-happily-ever-after-some-difficulties-in-USA. But, we start to get a different idea after Lucena argues with her dad. Things become a little more obvious through the cinematography and one shot specifically. When the trio is crossing the border, Lucena is sitting in the back seat, light is coming through the window-illuminating half of her face and shadows surround her. They get permission to pass and a few shots later we see Tomas gives her a pill. Next thing we know she’s been broken and the darkness that surrounded her in the car has completely fallen on her.

The scenes at the prostitution house/cock fighting range are indeed darker in mood and a little long. The short could, perhaps, be a little shorter and more poignant; maybe is just its theme makes us say here-we-go-again. While it does not give us a new and fresh view about child trafficking and prostitution; it does entice the audience visually and through less expected outcome and twists. Basically there are 3, first and least surprising twist, the already stated fact that Tomas used her. Second, when Lucena escapes from Melinda, she does not find a friendly Latin@ community and stays in the US. Third, she denounces Melinda, and we are left with the question of what would happen to her.

The last shot is of Lucena as she sits across the table from two detectives and the camera slowly zooms in to her. Fade to black, the credits begin to roll, and at the very end appears the AFI logo. Niña Quebrada is Kleiner’s graduate thesis film. It’s like that moment in the movie when Lucena asks a little girl at the prostitution house how is she and she responds 12. We as an audience want to know Lucena’s age but we don’t find that out until she’s at the police station. Personally, I think Niña Quebrada’s script is one of the few good ones in this showcase, and makes me wonder about the festival’s decision not to distinguish between the non-student films and the student ones.

Ya No Puede Caminar

Ya No Puede Caminar (Can't Walk Anymore)
Directed by Luis Berdejo, Spain, 2001. 13:07 minutes.

Ya No Puede Caminar tells the story of a young boy, Pacheco, who is apparently afraid of cockroaches. His father, eager to rid him of this fear, advises him to put a cockroach in a glass jar and keep it by his bed. By forcing himself to look at the cockroach before he went to sleep and after he woke up, he would grow used to the idea of not only this particular cockroach, but all cockroaches--and in time, his fear would be eliminated altogether. At first, Pacheco cannot overcome his fear, but eventually instead he develops an obsession. Soon Pacheco has acquired an impressive collection of jars, each one containing a different potentially frightening creature: birds, waterbugs, snakes, snails, etc. The end of the film shows the boy saying goodnight to his room full of creatures, which has now expanded to include his new classmate, Irene. In a particularly chilling scene, Pacheco yells down the manhole in which Irene is trapped, shivering and sniffling, "Good night, girl!" as he had done to each of his other creatures, throws a piece of bread down to her, and closes the manhole cover again.

I thought this film was shot beautifully. The muted greys, greens, and browns complement the sinister forested setting, while the shots of symmetrical rows and rows of identical shapes (for example, the scene where Pacheco is collecting snakes from the wall of cement blocks, or the rows of his jars) chillingly convey a rigid, sick obsession. The scene where Pacheco fervently scribbles out labels for his jars and carefully arranges them also contributes to this sense of consuming obsession, a frightening concept because it is inherently incomprehensible to all those except the person plagued by it.

One gets the sense that Pacheco's father's fear-eliminating technique had unexpectedly creepy consequences when we see Pacheco go to sleep not with the cockroach in the jar by his bed, but with the cockroach in his bed. One gets this sense again when Pacheco's response to his mother's demands to get his bugs out of the house is to feed his rat-in-a-jar a piece of his dinner under the table. But interestingly, the film teeters on the brink of "horror" and "just plain creepy" until the very end when Pacheco wishes his captive classmate goodnight. The ending pushes the movie over the horror threshold by showing the downright monstrous capacity of a child. It was helpful for me to consider this in terms of desensitization, which is a fairly talked-about concept, and is especially raised in the context of violent children's entertainment. The fear parents have is that their children will, after virtually slaying thousands of people in video games, become desensitized to violence, perhaps becoming more prone to actually commit acts of violence in real life. Pacheco, I'm sure, must have been predisposed to mental illness of some kind, but still, his father's campaign of systematic desensitization was what unleashed it. Maybe Berdejo is suggesting that it's healthy to have fears, because these fears are what make us human.

THE REPLACEMENT CHILD

THE REPLACEMENT CHILD
Directed by Justin Lerner, United States, 2007, 25 minutes.
Source: DC Shorts Film Festival Showcase 2

The Replacement Child is a film defined in large part by ambiguity. The audience is introduced to a young man named Todd Turnbull who has been in reform school for violently attacking his stepfather, but the circumstances surrounding the fight are never revealed. We learn that Todd’s father has died, but the cause is unknown. And perhaps most importantly, we know that Todd and his family live in a devoutly religious rural community somewhere in America, but the exact state and denomination is unknown.

As these details fall away, the audience is left with an intensely impressionistic coming-of-age story. Todd (Travis Quentin Young) returns home to discover that the life he knew prior to incarceration no longer exists. His former girlfriend has married and is expecting her first child, and his stepfather has convinced his mother to throw him out of their house. But perhaps most devastating of all, Todd's best friend Michael (Matthew Fahey) is dying, but receives no medical care on the orders of his family and their pastor and chooses to instead rely on God for a cure.

Knowing that he will be sent to prison, Todd ultimately assaults two men, steals his stepfather’s squad car, and kidnaps Michael, all to ensure that his friend receives medical treatment and survives. If the movie wasn’t already rife with religious imagery, Todd comes to epitomize Christian self-sacrifice. Thus, the essential question of the story is established: who is godly, the family whose strict interpretation of the Bible has left their son on his deathbed, or Todd, who chose crime to ensure that Michael lives?

I saw Showcase 2 with the intention of blogging about Zombie Jesus. Unfortunately, that film was a disappointment to say the least. The Replacement Child, meanwhile, actually brought me to tears. The short accomplished more in terms of emotional impact than many films do in a full two hours. The acting was superb, especially on the part of Travis Quentin Young, whose success thus far appears to be limited to additional dialogue recording work for films including No Country for Old Men and There Will Be Blood. Hopefully he’ll get more screen time in the future, because his performance was one of the most impactful I’ve seen from a young actor in quite a long time. I was also impressed to learn that The Replacement Child was not the work of a seasoned director, but rather the MFA thesis of Justin Lerner, a recent UCLA grad. Though I certainly don’t want to reduce his directorial debut to a calling card, I would love to see a feature by Lerner based on the strength of this short.

The only question that lingers in my mind is meaning of the film’s title. Though Todd has certainly been replaced by his family and friends (though he proves to be essential in every way), who has Todd replaced?

Grandma's Funeral

Grandma's Funeral
Dir. Paul Olding
Premiered 9/12/2008

“Grandma’s Funeral,” which premiered last week, is a wonderful and touching film. A mother and her two daughters discuss a relative who just died. They remember happier times spent playing dress-up. One of the daughters mentioned that if you said you enjoyed a particular dish, she would then make it again and again, thinking it was a favorite. Trouble occurs when the mother cannot unzip her skirt. Numerous attempts are made in order to get the skirt on, one funnier than the next, however in the end, the mother is able to work the zipper, and they finish dressing. The moment of laughter is over, and there is nothing left for them to do but attend the funeral.

The film’s strength was its simplicity. It was a brief moment shared between a mother and her daughters. The piece could best be described as a cinematic snapshot. The short film contained many aspects that people, especially women could relate to. There have been times when I have had an inability to undo a zipper, right before an event. I vividly remember sharing family stories and laughing before a funeral. There was an emotional honesty to the piece-it did not come off as forced or sappy. I felt like a fly on the wall, observing a private family moment.

One aspect of the film, which I particularly enjoyed, was the dramatic music, which played when the mother was unable to unzip her skirt. The music was similar to what would play in a horror film, just before something awful happens. While the music was serious, it added levity to the situation, because having difficulty with a zipper and monster attack are two extremely different situations. While I saw 13 films at the showcase, “Grandma’s Funeral” was my favorite, and deserves recognition.

Speed Dating

Speed Dating



Directed by Crystal Liu
DC Shorts Film Festival Showcase 3

If audience response means anything, Speed Dating was definitely an audience favorite in showcase 3. It definitely received the most laughs and Crystal Liu had the privilege of being there for all of them, which I think is a great feeling for any filmmaker.

As for the film itself, I thought it was brilliantly put together and genuinely hilarious in its presentation. The film tells the story of an attractive young woman who is desperate to find companionship in a very lonely city. It begins with a run through of her typical day, starting with a long and arduous commute through California traffic. When she arrives at work, it seems as if none of her coworkers have time to talk to her. The desk receptionist is on the phone gossiping. The people in the break room are too engrossed in gossip to acknowledge her. Her answering machine sadly reports that she has no new messages. At this point, I wasn't sure if this film was going to leave me laughing or crying by the end.

When she gets home from work, she finds a message waiting for her on her answering machine. Her friends invite her out to a club to relieve her of her loneliness. When she goes however, she only gets more of the same. Her "friends" are absorbed in their own conversation, while she sits and drinks alone. I'm still wondering how this is going to end, by the way. She decides to leave after downing a few cocktails, and proceeds toward her car. (Gasp!) She starts it up and begins to back up, and BAM! She hits someone. Oops. The man turns out to be fine, in many senses of the word. After a soothing conversation with "Mr. Hot Super-Attentive guy" as he is called in the program's description, she is inspired to begin a new campaign to find a date.

This is where it gets good. The next morning, she buys a slew of first-aid supplies, gussies herself up, and gets in her car (with a fully stocked passenger area complete with champagne). Her mission: "Accidentally" hit guys on the street with her car to find her prince charming. Her plot is very revealed in a cleverly constructed freeze-frame sequence (as seen above) that felt almost like a video game in the way the icons appeared over the heads of the potential targets. In the Q&A session, Liu named this as her favorite part of the film, and I agree.

Who knew that vehicular battery could be so funny? In a montage fashion, the film runs through the myriad of encounters, each a little bit different but equally hilarious. One wails in pain and berates her the whole way to the hospital, another tries to walk it off, a third calls his mommy. This sequence definitely produced the most laughs from the audience (and me, clearly). The humor is non-stop and never gives you a break, which only makes the laughter in the theater grow more infectious with each cut.

In the end though, she doesn't find her prince charming. With a turn back to the depressing, she calls her friend and leaves a sobbing voice message about how hard it is to find a guy in the city and BAM! She disappears from the frame with a thud that sounds a lot like a body hitting car hood. The audience was in a quite state of shock at this point. The scene cuts to an upward shot of the sky, and mens' faces begin to appear.
"Are you alright, maam?" says the first.
"I'm a paramedic, are you alright?" says another.
"Well, I'm a doctor, are you alright?" says another.
"I'm a lawyer, are you alright, miss?" says another with a smirk and a wink.

Laying on the pavement, she smiles and whipsers "Thank you!" to the sky as the film ends.

Thank you, Crystal Liu, for making car accidents not only funny, but romantic and satisfying as well. Who knew?

The Letter (Pismo)

Pismo (The Letter)

Directed by Matvei Zhivov, Canada/Russia, 2007, 17 minutes
DC Shorts Film Festival Showcase 2

The Letter, a short film set in World War II Russia, ranked among the most interesting of Showcase 2. I’m not sure that it was placed in the right slot or even the right showcase, but I thought it ranked as one of the most notable in terms of what it was trying to do.

The story concerns Stepan, a partisan fighter who is wounded in battle against the Germans, and who, while recuperating in the hospital, hears a litany of sorrows from his fellow patients. One man recounts how he returned home to find his wife in bed with his neighbor. He then points out a man sitting alone at the other end of the room, and tells Stepan that the man was rejected by his wife after returning home with only one arm. All of this prompts Stepan, who hasn’t been home for three years, to write a letter to his wife, Shura, and in effect, test her, by telling her that he has lost both legs in battle and will be returning shortly.

The action switches to the homefront, where a malnourished Shura reads the letter, and tells her two sons to immediately prepare for their father’s homecoming by preparing a wagon for him to sit in (so they can roll him back to the station). As they prepare the wagon, Shura is surprised by the sudden and unexpected homecoming of Stepan, and is further surprised to see how ambulatory he is. When he reveals to her that he wrote the letter as a kind of test, she is crestfallen, and Stepan must engage in an emotional battle with her as bitter as the physical challenge he faces at the beginning of the film. I don't want to spoil the ending for those who still might want to see it, so I'll end the plot description there. Suffice it to say, things don't end well, and audience is left a bit stunned like they've been hit by an emotional freight train.

While the subject matter is heartbreaking, the film itself is a beautiful thing to look at, filled with vistas of the Russian countryside and a rather elaborate and intense battle scene (with what looked like historically authentic WWII armament). I was very impressed with the amount of money devoted to the project and the sweep itself of the story, which played out like a Russian novel in the space of only 15 minutes. I wasn’t surprised to see that it has won at least one festival award for cinematography. Perhaps Russian filmmakers are seeing the power and potentialities of short film?

I was also reminded of what Bill Nichols had to say of both festivals and Iranian cinema in his article, and the feeling of “losing oneself, temporarily, of ‘going native’ in the confines of a movie theater.” I felt this as I watched The Letter. The language, the visuals, the earnestness of the performances, and even the Russian score swept me completely into the world of WW II Russia. This piece of history, in which over 20 million Russians died, still reverberates strongly in the culture.

Lastly, I couldn't help but reflect on the ongoing situations in Iraq (and Georgia) as I watched The Letter. Like any good war film, it reminds us that the price of war is not only felt on the battlefield, but also reverberates in families and relationships when the soldier comes home.