Dark Comedy Short Film

Here’s the Plan, Fernanda Frick’s ambitious 18min short film, is notable for its audacity—the audacity to tell a relationship story about two people who genuinely love each other and work to support each other and their marriage. This is neither a romance about the initial hot and heavy days of the chase and infatuation, nor a heroic adventure about love conquering all. It is instead a remarkably grounded narrative that traverses years of its central couple’s lives and documents the minor sacrifices and changing priorities that cause a shared dream to be deferred. Its originality is in its simple faith that communication and commitment can get partners back on track. No wonder such a fantastical narrative needed to star a dog and a cat instead of humans!

Kidding aside, something about the sweetness of the film and its desire to illustrate a healthy relationship struck me. The film is intimate, centered entirely on the couple as they grow from newlyweds to jaded, detached professionals. When young, they had a passion to start a bakery together, but obstacles presented themselves—the oven broke, their kitchen was too small. The desire for money to ameliorate their situation grew, and as they embarked on professional lives far away from baking, they learned they were good at their new occupations. Work intercedes, and professional growth becomes a larger priority. What was once a means to an end, becomes an end to itself. Despite their fancier clothes and steadily bigger house, their lives are increasingly siloed from one another, and the shared passion they felt is lost. Can they recognize what has happened to them? Can they recover what they once had?

Despite the anthropomorphized leads, the film script could have been live-action, as there is nothing high-concept about the world they inhabit. Live-action would deny us the pleasure of Frick’s art though. The film is pleasingly styled, if somewhat safe. The middlebrow preoccupations of the plot are mirrored in its cute, mainstream design, however to achieve animation on this level, at this length, is quite an accomplishment. Over 32 individuals worked on the project, via a distributed workflow organized online through Slack, and other tools.

Frick and the team are Chilean, yet the voice acting is in English to ensure a larger potential audience. Frick has some knowledge of the potential benefits that can accrue from international recognition, as PunkRobot, a Chilean studio that is prominently credited in the film, is responsible for Historia de un oso, which won the Oscar for best animated short in 2016, becoming the first Latin American winner of the category. The decision to record the dialogue in English has its pluses and a minuses however. While the voice acting is by and large good, it is also cloying, and the saccharine nature of the narrative can be off-putting to audiences at first. We’re used to independent animation being edgy, and so the wholesome sincerity evinced can be obnoxious. Yet the undeniable truth embedded in the character development is refreshing, the unvarnished depiction of a relationship as it could, as it should be, is daring. Frick, via email described her inspiration as a desire to fight against “perpetuating gender stereotypes”, feeling that the majority of onscreen romance “normalizes toxic and bad relationships, making you think ‘maybe that’s how it is’ when it doesn’t have to be.”

The result is a film that I believe will be profoundly moving to audiences that allow themselves to be open to it, especially audiences that are themselves in a committed relationship. The level of recognition they will experience in the trade-offs and compromises that the protagonists engage in is rare in visual entertainment. It is a natural experience when navigating a shared future with a loving partner, and yet it is not a common theme in media of any type, and especially not within animation, which leans heavily towards fantastical narratives.

The film, like Historia de un oso before it, is in the running for an Oscar nomination, and this week will see a flood of high-quality animations seeking to build buzz online during the Academy’s initial voting window, as 70+ qualified films will be narrowed to a 10 film shortlist. Frick has a good partner in this process as Here’s the Plan is the debut film of CB Fest Season 2, an online initiative of the influential animation website Cartoon Brew which will premiere 7 animated shorts over the coming weeks. Short of the Week is partnering with Cartoon Brew to present 3 of those films, but the whole series is worth checking out. Best of luck to Frick with Oscar voting, if you love this work, do your part and share.

If you think heady science fiction topics only belong in super-serious cerebral films, please allow me to introduce you to Jacob Motz’s Doubles—a comedy about two universes that are collapsing on one another. While the pitch could potentially be the logline for some Chris Nolan mind-bender, Motz is after a different type of cinematic experience: think Spike Jonze by way of Apatow.

In viewing Doubles, the audience is greeted by a bizarre science fiction world that is hilariously mundane. And, it’s that banality which makes for the film’s brilliant central joke. The protagonists (and, in effect, the audience) immediately buy into the movie’s surreal doppelgänger world. There are no high-brow intellectual discussions or diagrams made out of straws. Instead of grappling with the larger theoretical implications of this crazy world, the lead characters simply jump headfirst into the boring minutiae of how it will affect their daily lives. Now, they have two bosses…ugh!

Beyond being delightfully light on exposition, the film is making some salient points about human nature. Even when the world is being transformed before our eyes, we still, at the end of the day, want to make sure there is enough soda in the office refrigerator. The short is also touching upon identity—about seeing who we are and who we wish we could be (even if that someone is technically ourselves). Without venturing into spoiler territory for those who haven’t yet watched, the film functions as sort of a loop, both beginning and ending at the same point in time (albeit for different versions of the same person). In the immortal words of George Costanza, worlds be colliding.

Of course, none of this high-concept comedy would work if the performances weren’t so strong. The majority of Motz’s actors come from an improv background, and in turn, they feel effortlessly funny in front of the camera. Mike C. Nelson, who plays the lead—Bookers—steals the film. He’s the lovable schlub everyman—funny, cute, and just a wee bit pathetic. The fact that he isn’t super-famous right now is somewhat baffling to me (I mean, check out that ‘stache!). Nevertheless, I have a feeling that Nelson might break out huge very, very soon.

The film was shot over the course of three days with a budget of $18K. Motz used the goodwill from his previous short, O.T.E, to convince a family friend to invest in Doubles’s production. As for what’s next, Motz is aiming to shoot another short in the spring as well as potentially move into some longer form entertainment. Provided he can keep the same effortless sense of tone and style, consider me excited. You can keep up to date with him on his website. His producing work for digital branded content is also available to view here.

To be completely up front, At Your Convenience doesn’t feel like a short film, but rather a pilot episode for some long lost Comedy Central series. It’s a funny, 22-minute surreal journey through gangs, crack, and crocheting all told in front of a cartoon backdrop (courtesy of designer/animator Christian De Castro). It’s like if South Park and Clerks mated and had biracial children. Hilarious, weird, biracial children.

While At Your Convenience might seem better suited for television than an online “quick watch,” as our esteemed contributor Craig Downing is often fond of saying: “good is good.” And, well, At Your Convenience is pretty darn awesome. It’s absurd and refreshingly original—from both its casting choices to its cell-shaded visual aesthetic. Not to make too big a deal of it, but, in general, it’s great to see a comedically led project that features protagonists other than vaguely, non-threateningly Jewish white guys (and this is coming from a non-threateningly Jewish white guy). Whether it be the rise of Key and Peele or some choice additions to the newest SNL cast, the comedy world has seen a much needed influx of diversity as of late. At Your Convenience seems like a series/short film tailor-made for the modern comedic generation—intent on bucking stereotypes while it simultaneously makes fun of them.

The cast is stellar. Both Randall Park (The Interview, Veep) and Dwayne Perkins (Late Night with Conan O’Brien) have a tremendous knack for delivery and timing. Park plays stupid/innocent without being annoying. Perkins is the straight man of the duo, his performance balancing some of the more “out there” moments (like, say, tiny ponies in crack pouches).

In regards to the tone, co-writer and director Ryamond Lai writes via e-mail: “As we began to write and polish the script, it occurred to me that we might be skirting a fine tonal line that could easily vault into controversy/offense if we weren’t careful.  That’s when I realized that we could buy ourselves a buffer if we delve into the surreal, visually speaking.  This could create a level of detachment for the audience that would allow us to discuss whatever we wanted, and not offend anybody too egregiously.”

It’s like a Benetton ad, but instead of young models, everyone looks like complete sh*t

By why make a comedy television pilot in the first place? Well, Lai created the project for his MFA thesis at USC. Instead of making a long short film and hoping to parlay that into a feature (as so many short filmmakers aim to do), Lai went with a “pilot” television approach. With this line of thinking, if he managed to sell his passion project to a network, he’d be able to keep his diverse cast and creative control (instead of starting from scratch with studio interference). He’d literally have the first episode packaged and ready to go. Just shake some hands and cash the check.

It’s a practical—albeit unconventional—approach to breaking into the “business” and I admire Lai’s efforts. Unfortunately, he never quite landed that easy sell. As Lai relates, “It screened pretty well and there was tepid interest/meetings, but nothing ever materialized…But I still believe in the project, and I know there’s an audience for it out there.”

I agree. While I don’t necessarily think  At Your Convenience “The Series” would appeal to a wide audience, it’s the type of show that could be championed by a passionate, enlightened few, watching at 1am on their laptops in the comfort of their dorm rooms. Regardless of whether or not we’ll ever get to see the project go any further, at the very least, it has found its way online for all to enjoy.

As for what’s next, Lai has a couple feature scripts he’s trying to get made.  One is a coming of age sci-fi dramedy about a teenage DJ who must save the love of his life from the grips of an intergalactic soul sucking android (great pitch). The other is an idea he’s developing with Dwayne Perkins about a stand-up comedian who is kidnapped and locked in a room and needs to figure out why. Finally, he has a short documentary that’s beginning to make the festival rounds about Ken Miura, a USC cinema legend who taught and inspired filmmakers like George Lucas, Walter Murch, Ben Burtt, and Gary Rydstrom.

See You Around is a charming comedy about a guy who may have lost his mind post-breakup with his girlfriend. We’ve certainly all been there, but probably not quite like this poor guy. Unfortunately for Thomas, played by CollegeHumor alum Josh Ruben, he can’t stop seeing his ex-girlfriend—literally, seeing her—all around town. He knows it’s not really her, but whether it’s at the corner deli, on infomercials, or in that porn he was watching, she shows up. The result is a film that cleverly implements a relatable premise visually, then backs it up with witty writing and unusually strong performances.

While the premise attracts the headlines, writer and director, Oren Brimer demonstrates a skilled hand at the nuts and bolts of the comedy contained within. The result is akin to a sophisticated sitcom with an anti-romantic ideology. Brimer’s sharp writing style will induce unattractive snorts and smirks as you watch each character interaction unfold. The success is in how his actors execute joke saturation, rolling one punchline after another in a fast-paced rhythm that’s impressive.

On-screen chameleon, Courtney Pouroso, who plays ex-girlfriend Allison, does a fantastic job of impersonating other characters. So, while Thomas sees his girlfriend in place of his therapist, we, as audience members, don’t miss a beat. All of the actors are pretty laugh out loud funny and include George Basil and Pete Holmes, who are also stars from CollegeHumor Originals.

Still, if the visual conceit of the film were not executed effectively, it would be harder to persuade audiences to stick with the 22min film. Scenes with multitudes of the ex-girlfriend show off Brimer and team’s creativity. He explains the process to us, writing, “DP extraordinaire Smokey Nelson and I employed a system of drawing out odd shaped split-screens on a plexiglass monitor cover that would later be employed in the compositing in post production. What we achieved was a surreal visual device with very minimal visual effects work in post.”

Brimer’s talent is being duly recognized outside of shorts, he is currently a writer/producer on a new HBO show called Crashing, which is executive produced by Judd Apatow and stars Pete Holmes, who played the ‘Therapist’ in See You Around. Premiere dates are not set yet, but we’re positive that it will single-handedly justify your HBO NOW subscription (ok Game of Thrones helps too). Be sure to keep an eye out for it.

“After I was happy with an episode, I took it into the post-production house to grade the live action footage”, says Baker. “Then I had to go back and tweak Desmondo into the newly graded footage, which mostly just consisted of altering his lighting. Then it was back into the post house to add all the effects that I didn’t know how to do – like adding fire and smoke and a million other little things my brilliant vfx artist did…After an episode was visually locked off I would send it to my composer to begin work on the music, followed by the sound design. Then repeat, 5 more times…”

“I’d love to explore this character in a more expansive platform like TV

Now keen to make his first feature, with a script almost ready to start pitching around to gauge interest, Baker is still curious to see if there’s anymore life in the world of Desmondo Ray. “I’d love to explore this character in a more expansive platform like TV” he says, “If there’s a demand to see more”.

I know we’d happily spend a bit more romantic time with cuddly Desmondo


                             

A 4-minute manically paced cinematic non-sequitur, Zach Wechter’s This Table is a tough film to describe. After all, it’s sort of an anti-narrative: a series of quirky, random events that are loosely tied together in service of a flurry of subjects and ideas. Working with longtime writing partner Jack Seidman, S/W alum Wechter (Straight Down Low and Election Day) crafts a quickly paced rumination on death, anxiety, and obsessive compulsion. Oh, and did I mention it’s a comedy? To get down to brass tax, This Table (larger thematic implications aside) works because it’s just damn entertaining. The pace is ferocious. The style is pronounced. Even if you don’t really “get” the film, it’s undeniably engaging. And, for a brief four minute piece, that suits us fine. As we online curators know, hooking an audience early is the biggest hurdle to creating a successful film on the internet. And, Wechter and Seidman get their claws in your from the onset. From there, you’re along for the ride—a rollercoaster with ample air time. The film is a really adept example of kinetic editing, often using cuts to accentuate punchlines and explore its “story within a story” construct. Visually, it also looks great, shot with a distinct visual panache that relies primarily on wide-angled lenses. While the film’s content strays away from Wechter’s previous genre-focused films, his sense of craftsmanship is still very much on display here. But, what’s it all about, really? As Wechter explains via e-mail:

“This Table is an obsessive-compulsive short film starring my best friend and writing partner Jack Seidman. His anxiety about death -and the way it’s affected us both- inspired the project. It was my intimate knowledge of his OCD that gave me the confidence to know I could realize his script the right way. — Jack and I thought that making this project together would exercise his demons and free him of his psychic pathology. It didn’t.“

While the film may not have cured Seidman’s OCD, we’re hoping, at the very least, it gets some more attention for this very talented creative duo. Wechter recently executive-produced and directed a new series for SoulPancake called Love & Longitude, which premiered in the Experimental Storytelling section at this year’s SXSW (it’s set to be released later this year). And, as you might expect, Wechter and Seidman are currently in development of a feature film they wrote together. It takes genre elements (a survival movie) and smashes it with a brand new setting: the iPhone. Needless to say, we’re definitely intrigued.

It’s rare to find films about kids that don’t feel completely false. After all, the Hollywood kid is a hyperliterate, squeaky clean anomaly that seems like some sort of specimen created in a Disney Channel lab rather than a living, breathing hormone-raging adolescent. I guess that’s why Corey Aumiller’s Grill Dog feels so refreshing. Part coming-of-age tale, part comedy of errors, part heavy emotional drama, it’s a film that depicts kids (specifically a brotherly relationship) in a way that is both engaging and honest. And, by honest, I mean lots of profanity and juvenile humor.

The plot is simple enough. A horned-up 12-year-old on vacation with his parents attempts to sneak off resort property to find a mystical “titty waterfall.” His little brother, of course, tags along for the ride. However, what starts as a screwball adventure slowly descends into something much darker. Aumiller masterfully transforms his short from crudeness to serious drama. Tonally, it’s a tricky balancing act that somehow manages to work. Once the dramatic shift happens (no spoilers here), the film packs an emotional wallop.

Grill Dog also really captures the essence of what it’s like to be a kid who wants desperately to be an adult. You know, it’s that weird Bar Mitzvah-ish age where you still like kid things, but understand that there is a bigger, more mature world out there. The transition from adolescence to adulthood is obviously a well-traversed cinematic territory, but there’s a reason for that: it’s universally relatable. Aumiller harnesses that inherent empathy and captures something that is profound because it’s so specific.

As he relates to Short of the Week via e-mail:

“I wanted to tell a good story that hit people on an emotional level! Good storytelling is about finding an incredibly small, specific detail and expanding it into a universally relatable story. At its heart, Grill Dog is about a kid who has to give up on his preconceived notions of adulthood. We all had a moment in our lives where our lens shifted from blissful child to cognizant adult. It sucked. It was hard. It hurt. This movie asks its audience to go through all of those emotions.”

There’s the old adage in filmmaking: never work with children and animals. Well, Aumiller chose to make a film featuring both. Fortunately, his child leads are both excellent with subtle, strong performances that mirror the film’s stylistic shift.

Truth be told, I wish the film’s ending landed a bit more. To me it came off as a somewhat unsatisfying cliffhanger. Nevertheless, the journey getting there is impeccably crafted. Beyond that, on a conceptual level, I understand what Aumiller is after. His main character has gone through an experience. He’s learning that there are consequences to his actions that he has to be mature enough to ultimately face. To put it simply: he’s growing up.

What is your favourite smell? Freshly-baked bread in the morning? Leafing through the pages of a new book? The familiar scent of your lover’s skin? Now imagine you lost your sense of smell?


Directed by Jacob LaMendola and made for The New York Times, Anosmia is a fascinating documentary which shines a light on the rare condition, through the use of ravishing visuals paired with candid interviews. The 9 min short is a rewarding and deeply immersive experience, which will make you think twice about taking your 5th sense for granted.

“There was enormous catharsis in listening and having this connection with strangers”
In Anosmia 10 individuals who have lost the ability to smell share their personal experiences of living with the condition, and explain how it affects their everyday lives. LaMendola does a brilliant job of getting the most personal, honest answers out of them and brings those to life through the clever use of the cutaways. The result is simply quite stunning and a real pleasure to watch..

For Jacob LaMendola, who lost his sense of smell when he was a child, Anosmia was a project close to his heart. Growing up and finally accepting his condition as part of his identity, the director felt it was time to share his story, but he wanted to do so through the voices of others like him. “There was enormous catharsis in listening and having this connection with strangers, especially after growing up thinking I was the only one who couldn’t smell. The film was a way for us to let everything out” – he explains.

There is so much to admire here. The cinematography and the sound effects awaken all your senses at once, the tactile shots cleverly chosen to trigger emotions ranging from pleasure to repulsion and everything in between. The interviewees are at perfect ease in front of the camera, their stories so revealing, fascinating and at times truly heartrending.

What I loved most about Anosmia, however, is the fact that it made me think about something I rarely think about. Smell has the incredible ability to instantly take us back to a specific moment in our past, maybe more so than any of the other senses. It also has the power to connect people in a way we can’t even understand ourselves. Therein lies the real power of the short film – in its ability to make us think, make us appreciate what we have and understand those who don’t have it.

LaMendola is working on his next documentary, 5 years in the making, which will be released this fall. He is thrilled to share it with the world and we cannot wait to see it. Today also happens to be his birthday, so from the whole S/W team, we wish you many happy returns Jacob!

Inspired by a real-life story, Clifford Miu’s Porcupine is the tense-tale of a Mother, an intruder, a shotgun and a 911 operator. Set largely in the cramped, claustrophobic quarters of a trailer, this taut 10-minute thriller may start off slow, but by the end of its gripping conclusion it’ll have your heart pumping, your knuckles white and your breathe held.

Setting the film in real-time and in closed quarters, Miu has created a film that really puts its viewers in the mindset of its petrified protagonist. Admitting he set out to make his audience “hear what the young mother hears, feel what she feels, and understand her decisions”, the director decided to shoot in multiple long takes and then break those shots up in post.

“As a big fan of genre filmmaking, I knew that the first and foremost job of a thriller is exactly that – to thrill the audience and make them sweat”, Miu explains. “That said, it is also my intention to instill in the story a real sense of urgency and relevance to our society today, and I have attempted to reflect on some of the issues that are present in American society (i.e. gun rights, Castle Doctrine)”.

As a Brit, though the idea of asking an emergency operator for permission to shoot another human being is one that feels firmly rooted in fiction, the revelation that Porcupine was based around actual events does result in the film having extra impact when digested. And though this post could easily descend into the realms of gun regulations and the right to bear arms, I admired the fact Miu doesn’t feel like he’s casting judgement here – so I’m going to do the same.

Now finalising two new shorts – a “socially-relevant” horror short called Bargain and a partly animated documentary about his 104 year old great grandfather called Centenarian – Miu is looking to take both film on a festival tour in early 2018

Christoph Rainer’s Pitter Patter Goes My Heart combines humor, heart and an exceptional knack for unconventional details to tell a peculiar story about love and heartbreak. It’s a tale that displays a healthy tension between magic realism á la Amélie and the more cynical tone of typical Austrian cinema. With a operatic score invoking grand melodrama, the film is a unique marvel in finding the perfect balance to mix these sensibilities.

We meet our heroine Lisa (Vicky Krieps) in her element, telling a customer about the various ways in which one can show affection through a greeting card. This is when we also get a glimpse of her charm, quirks and her over-bearing enthusiasm for romance. Only later, after we get to know her alcoholic father who stumbles upon his daughter’s own lovelorn collection of romantic cards, we find out that Lisa still has an unhealthy, almost delusional relation to her ex-boyfriend Alf. When Lisa finds out that her photographer-ex is in town to shoot an anti-varicose medical campaign, she signs up her father for a casting to meet and hopefully reunite with her dearest Alf.

Filmmaker Christoph Rainer confessed that he made the film when he “was madly in love – with more emphasize on ‘mad’ than on ‘love’. So even though I don’t enjoy romantic films very much, I couldn’t help but make one myself and express my unhealthy feelings. I think I wrote my own negative, self-fulfilling prophecy in this short film. It became about how love could turn terribly sour.”

Ironically, although it was conceived as a reflection of his own romantic struggles, contrary to the film’s story Rainer found a way to sway the mind of his object of affection with one last grand gesture—the smoke and mirror tactics of a true storyteller. After he met his now-girlfriend during his studies in New York, she initially rejected his feelings, which inspired him to make Pitter Patter Goes My Heart. But after Christoph got back to Vienna, he received an invitation to a film festival in Iceland for his short Requiem for a Robot and a plan was hatched. Rainer led her to believe that he had an extra ticket and didn’t know whom to take along. She actually took him up on the offer and they spent they week together at the festival, and the rest, as they say, is history. He has confessed his devious scheme by now, which apparently was worth the hustle.

Most storytellers who are influenced by personal experiences probably would like to create a better version of the reality they’re in, but with Pitter Patter Goes My Heart Rainer used the film to deal with his unhappy emotions. He wound up on the better end of that bargain in his own story, but the autobiographical motivations of this particular time in his life still ring true. Which isn’t to say that the short is a bleak discourse on the theme of love – quite the contrary, but it does complicate the emotion, both celebrating the salutary aspects of living a life that is full of intense feeling, yet also clearly recognizing the delusions and self-harm it can lead us to.

One might contribute the film’s unique style to Rainer’s dual education at the Filmakademie Wien in Vienna and Columbia University, New York, at which he finished his studies with Pitter Patter Goes My Heart. The specificity in scenes like with the father trying to suck alcohol of crushed chocolate with a straw or a backroom discussion between shady older men about the most photogenic varicose veins enriches the world the director created, which is footed in a suburban reality and a creation of its own all the same.

While director Christoph Rainer is working on a few feature film projects in various stages of development, main actress Vicky Krieps can be seen next in Paul Thomas Anderson’s upcoming new film, starring opposite Daniel Day-Lewis in what is supposedly his last screen performance.

Paper Trail by Jake Fried 2017.
Hand-drawn animation with ink, white-out and collage.
Sound design by the artist. More at inkwood.net

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instagram.com/jakejfried/

There is a vast disparity between the rich and the poor in India, a country with a billion plus populace. One man, J S Parthiban, a manager at the South Indian bank tried to bridge that gap. He encouraged and aided beggars from across New Delhi to open bank accounts, save what they earned and make a better life for themselves. Hailing from Tamil Nadu, he got back to his roots and spearheaded micro-loans to villagers. Here's how one man changed the destinies of the lives he touched.

Born and Raised in a small German village, far away from wind and water, Marco has made his way into the top league of the windsurf world. Three months ago we followed him to Leucate in South France to shoot a film, which was in our minds for several years.

follow our journey on instagram @hometownstories
find the music on soundcloud: soundcloud.com/eeph/sets/nine-till-now

production company: Hometown Creations
director: Jan Eric Hühn
director of photography: Alex Schuchmann
music & sounddesign: eeph aka. Henric Schleiner

supported by:
Aevor
JaKlar
Chiemsee
Fanatic
ION
Kerbholz
Maui Ultra Fins
North Sails
Panasonic
Wesh Center Crew
Carry Rent
Kr -One
Oneil Eyewear
FH Dortmund

Leucate, France 2017

Starring Sasha Lane
Directed by Allie Avital

Production Company: Partizan
Executive Producer: Whitney Jackson
Executive Producer: Haley Meeker
Executive Producer: Laura Jones
Producer: Peter Williams
Cinematographer: Ryan Hope
Assistant Camera: Matt Tompkins
Movement Coach: Bash Johnson
SPFX Makeup: Laney Chantal and Miranda Jory
Hair: Ashley Gillis
Editor: Jojo King @ Modern Post
Producer @ Modern Post: Charles Nickles
Executive Producer @ Modern Post: Charlyn Derrick
VFX Producer: Mashevskyi Sergii @ Gloria VFX
VFX Executive producer: Max Colt @ Gloria VFX
VFX Art director: Kuzmytskyi Anatolii @ Gloria VFX
VFX Supervisor: Halichian Oleh @ Gloria VFX
VFX Project manager: Nekrasov Dmytro @ Gloria VFX
Compositors: Krashanyuk Viktor, Muha Inga, Evstratov Sergey, Merkulova Alexandra, Bagaliy Irina, Mokeev Andrey, Indik Evgenia, Kuzmytskaya Karina, Zelenskiy Maksim, Pinaeva Tatyana, Potras Kirill, Zheleznov Andrey, Berdnikova Alena, Ivanenko Aleksey, Kononov Yuriy, Kovaleva Lyudmila.
Color Correction: Kaitlyn Batistelli / Electric Theatre Collective
Sound design : Gisela Fulla-Silvestre

Special thanks to Cameron Parkins

Intensely violating, and within seconds it’s gone. Watching the short film Laps mirrors the crime depicted at its center, putting you in the headspace of its protagonist as she endures an assault on a crowded NYC subway, and leaves you with a similar sentiment—confusion, followed by disgust and shame.

A concise but dynamic short film, clocking in under 6 minutes, the film follows a woman as she commutes from swim practice. Packed like sardines on the subway car, an unidentified man, never clearly imaged, presses up against her. His breathing on her neck slowly quickens, his shoes lightly push down against her heels, his crotch presses firmly against her. Like a cornered animal her body is frozen, even as her eyes seem to scream, “What is happening!?”. Passengers appear to notice, but do no more than we can, which is observe. Then suddenly the train reaches its station, and she bolts out the door, left in vain to process what she just experienced.

Criticisms of the film are easy to arrive at. Despite its intimate camerawork, and frequent cuts which attempt to embed you in the perspective of its lead, the short is maddeningly distant— matter-of-factly presenting the occurrence with little drama. The violation is brief and inconclusive, with none of the histrionics we associate with filmed depictions of sexual assault. It is thus easy to be underwhelmed by the film.

That is of course the point. The woman at its center doesn’t know how to feel, how to make sense of what has occurred, and as a film centered on her vantage, Wells’ will not tip her hand to give you easy takeaways either. The subtlety is its greatest asset, as the goal is to impart the messy mix of thoughts and emotions that spring from such an event—the paralysis of shock at its occurrence, the confusion and minimization of its recollection in the aftermath, the self-doubt of feeling like no one would make a big deal of it if you told them, and the indecision of whether to allow oneself to feel victimized or to move on.

Her Friend Adam. I've never been able to decide if one should or shouldn't watch this film if you're in a relationship. It is pure jealousy and anxiety put on-screen. Grace Glowicki's performance as the titular "her" puts When Harry Met Sally's Meg Ryan to shame.

Kyra is a young cellist on her way to becoming an outstanding soloist. During an important concert one of the strings of her cello comes lose, unnerving her; this results in a panic attack and stage fright. Her anxiety and loneliness become too much to handle, but quitting is not an option.

"Hold On" is this week's Staff Pick Premiere! Read more about it here: vimeo.com/blog/post/staff-pick-premiere-hold-on

Winner Best Short TriBeCa
Winner Best Short Huesca
Winner Best Short FEST

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Whenever I'm feeling down and I want a good old fashioned pick-me-up film, where I can see puppets scream, fuck, fight, and piss all over one another, this is my go-to. By the end, you'll be a primal scream therapy convert and a chanter of their mantra: "MANOMAN, MANOMAN."

Amidst the chaos of the Iraq and Syrian War, independent photographer and director Joey L. embeds himself with Kurdish guerrilla organizations on the frontlines against ISIS. Without the constraints typical of our mainstream media, Joey offers a deeply personal, humanizing, and controversial view of the war. This is a follow up to the 2015 film "Guerrilla Fighters of Kurdistan" vimeo.com/129935570 Please consider supporting Joey's ongoing, independent work by purchasing a book or fine art print: joeyLshop.com

Tell me your deepest secret. Want to play? Director Phinehas Hodges explores the potentially damaging effects this dangerous game could have on a relationship, in his sharp and intoxicatingly dark short, Secrets. The film is a penetrating study of love, brimming with an intensity that will hook you in from the very first line and like the best of films, will keep messing with your head long after it ends.
As young couple Kate and Ben start a seemingly innocent game in bed, where they decide to come clean on some embarrassing secrets, things soon take an unexpected turn. Without revealing too much, expect laughs followed by some shocking truths brought to light.

Whilst working on his short film Alone, Hodges sent out a ‘casting call’ to a large group of people, asking them what they did when no one was around. He continued receiving replies from strangers, even after the filming was completed, eager to share their private moments with him. ‘It got me wondering about the nature of secrets and what it is about them that both fascinates and repulses us, and reminded me of an old short story I’d written about this – which I decided to adapt into the film’ – Hodges explains.

Losing his mother when he was a child, the director had first hand experience of going through a life-altering trauma. He was interested in exploring the subject further and thus Secrets became a film about living with a heavy emotional burden and being brave enough to share it in the hope of lightening its weight and finding love. There is a very powerful sense of closeness in the film, achieved physically, through the intimate close up shots, and psychologically, as the audience inevitably relates to the subject matter, be it to a greater or lesser extent. The result is both uncomfortable and enthralling and gives Secrets a startling resonance.

The acting is faultless. The two characters are so believable in their respective roles, you forget they are not a couple in real life. There’s humour and there’s darkness, and the emotional journey from one to the other is achieved with seeming ease. But there’s also tenderness which shades their performances and adds just what the film needs, a subtle but distinctive vulnerability, so compelling it’s heart-breaking.

Watching Secrets, I found myself enamored with Ben and Kate and I was desperate to find out what the future has in store for them. Thankfully Hodges is currently pitching it as a series and I for one am 100% behind him on this one. He is also working on a couple of TV shows and a feature film, so stay tuned to find out more!

At the core of ALONE, an experimental short from acclaimed production company Animal, is a contradiction: we watch people, as they behave, while alone. But that very concept, alone, means that no one is there to watch. It is artifice therefore, like all film is, but the premise plays to the scopophilia that is an intrinsic appeal of the film-viewing experience, and unlocks a powerful intimacy, provoking a humanist empathy that makes for a special experience.

In ALONE, there are scenes you will wish were longer, and others that you wish you could look away from. This ability to summon a visceral reaction in the viewer is what makes director Phinehas Hodges’ film a standout. There is a deep-seated fascination that each of us, as humans, possess for each other, and an equally deep-seated insecurity we harbor within ourselves. We can be gross, brave, depressed, and downright strange when nobody’s watching, and we wonder, but most often forget, that others can be too—after all it’s those moments when we’re alone that we are in our most natural state. Hodges’ collects these stolen, private moments, pushing past appropriate boundaries to give us a fly-on-the-wall perspective into “being human.”

Hodges explains how the film’s meaning was found through the process of making it: “I honestly set out at first to make a video that I felt had the potential to be viral – a comedy, in fact, about what we do when no one is watching. As we filmed, that changed, and eventually I wanted the people watching to experience the liberation I did when I was filming it. The realization of how similar we are and how unique. I personally felt like, I guess I’m actually not that strange. The things I do fell well within the norm. Which was liberating in its own way.”

ALONE showcases the freedom of being isolated. When no one is looking, we behave differently and Hodges cheekily points it out as certain people are literally caught with their pants down. There’s both an uncanny, comedic darkness to this film and an inspirational edge, thanks to how relatable the various events on screen are. A particularly poignant scene is of a cross-dresser putting on her fake eyelashes and tucking away her manhood. Another captures a man who wrestles with his cat while playing pretend—it is guaranteed to make you feel less ashamed of yourself. The film has a reassuring way of making you feel like your own quirks are utterly normal and justified. It’s a freeing experience.

You might have curiosity about the production process. Hodges shed light on how each person was captured: “Our crew was always small, 3 people max, as getting non actors comfortable meant getting to know them. We viewed everyone as collaborators and asked them to share with us some of what they personally did when no one was around. A lot of times I would sit down with the ‘talent’ for half an hour before we started shooting and tell them my inspiration and intentions for the piece, and after that I found they were a lot more ready to be vulnerable and open about what they did. Sometimes we left the camera running in the room and monitored remotely. We always shot long takes—sometimes 7-10 minutes.”

The second half of the film builds with a crescendo of emotional highs and finally lands on an open casket that is then closed. There’s a certain finality to this last state of isolation that Hodges equates to freedom. While not a subtle symbol, it’s a powerful end to what is a quite unique, very affecting, and ultimately highly recommended non-narrative short.

Elgin Park is a captivating documentary about Michael Paul Smith, the reclusive artist whose photographs of hand built and realistic miniatures of his imaginary town Elgin Park went viral. Director Danny Yourd guides us through the life of this meticulous artist and his surprisingly somber inspiration behind his craft. The film provides us with an intimate exchange with Smith, allowing us to, in just a seven minutes, feel as though we have engaged in a direct exchange with the artist.

While the photos of Elgin Park carry a mystical and nostalgic sense of what many perceive to be a better and happier time, there is a certain and surprising darkness behind each photograph. The imaginary town is not just an iconic remembrance of the past in its most positive light, but rather Smith inserts nuanced yet realistic fragments of an imaginable narrative. Yourd’s cinematic approach to the film is perfectly reflective of Smith’s artistic approach; as the film progresses it too goes from being a seemingly positive portrait of an artist to becoming a more intimate and real experience with the man within the artist.

It’s interesting to watch the sort of positive emotional impact internet virality can have on a person. In some ways it seems as though Smith spent much of his life knowing himself but not necessarily knowing his place in the world. As the film suggests he found his place in Elgin Park, and the various communities that have received his work because of the virality have satisfied Smith’s internal desire to make a difference and touch others in the world.

A lonesome woodcutter living a peaceful life in the woods. Although something seems to be a little off. A strange obsession seems to control his everyday life. In the woods of upstate New York, an Oak tree is turned into a traditional post and rung stool. With Tom Bonamici and Derek Lasher Directed, Photographed, and Edited by Adam Newport-Berra Location Sound: JR Skola Camera Assistant: Ezra Ewen Sound Design and Music: Mark Henry Phillips Colorist: Mikey Rossiter Produced by Ghost Robot Made in Partnership with Beaver Brook

When Ryan Green, a video game programmer, learns that his young son Joel has cancer, he and his wife begin documenting their emotional journey in the form of an unusually beautiful and poetic video game. THANK YOU FOR PLAYING follows Ryan and his family over two years through the creation of “That Dragon, Cancer” as it evolves from a cathartic exercise into a critically acclaimed work of art that sets the gaming industry abuzz. Lauded as "unimaginably intimate" by The New Yorker and "profoundly moving" by Indiewire, THANK YOU FOR PLAYING is a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the ability of art and technology to document profound experiences in the modern age.

The midnight shorts program at SXSW is one of the jewels of the fest, and one of the best programs of its kind in festival-land. Lines circled around the block to get in this year, and that was just the stand-by line. Most of those poor souls didn’t get in. So, this goes out to you poor souls; if this somehow reaches you, your long wait is over—you can now see the best film from SXSW Midnight 2016.

Seth is an outrageous coming-of-age written by first-time writer/director Zach Lasry and features a revelatory performance from Logan George in the title role. The film is “Midnight” not due to horror, or grossness (though there is a little bit), but simply due to its highly imaginative, non-sequitur comedy style that will elicit more than a few expressions of “WTF?!?!”.

Writing about comedy is tough, after all explaining a joke kills it, and I certainly don’t want to defang what the team of Seth has accomplished with its title character. You don’t need context to enjoy the film, and I encourage you to check it out first to allow yourself to be surprised. However, now upon multiple viewings, my esteem for Seth has grown even more. The character is simply a grand achievement. Outrageous, unpredictable, but consistent. His behavior flows naturally from his traits, and those traits are well-established very quickly: the repressed hypersexuality that plays out in his questionable photographic collages, suggestive dancing, and pantless tuxedo, as well as his manic-depressive dramatics, leading him to uncomfortable moments of self-harm and stinging self-recrimination. Simple throw-away jokes are rewoven into the script via call-backs, sometimes with big payoffs, such as the corn “feast” Seth prepares for his father.

Seth is an A+ comedic construction that is more flexible and better developed than any SNL sketch character of the last 10 years, and it’s often overlooked how rare that is. He has identifiable bits—his grandiose visions, sartorial flair, and artistic impulses make him a spiritual cousin to Rushmore’s Max Fischer, while his unhealthy parental fixation and developmental arrest have hints of Buster Bluth. But that said, Seth is quite an original, and it was rare to see a film where I was consistently surprised by a character’s actions, and yet those actions never betrayed the character is the search of that surprise.

Lasry studied at NYU and worked for a time as a fashion photographer for Interview Magazine, as well as serving under Rodrigo Prieto during the shooting of The Wolf of Wall Street. In conjunction with his partner, Arianna Lyons, he founded Fever Dream Productions which is in development on a number of projects, including Lasry’s debut feature script Velvet Suit. The script was recently selected into the Capalbio Future Storytelling Lab where it will mentored by Colin Trevorrow (Jurassic World). With the success of Seth at their backs, the future is bright for this promising creative team.

There’s all these amazing, complex, crucial organs in the body. The appendix is surplus to requirements, worse than useless.
It was originally there to repopulate the gut with good bacteria, but in “hygienic” societies there’s nothing much for it to do…

Music and animation inspired by the Appendix, commissioned by Body Of Songs

bodyofsongs.com

Music: (Ooh Aah) Carolina! by Raf
Directed by Ben Wheele
Animation by Ben Wheele and Theo Nunn

Supported by The Wellcome Trust and Arts Council England

Be free

In partnership with Psyop, nöbl created this quirky and humourous video clip.
As a celebration of sexual freedom, it is thanks to the expertise of a talented team of contributors that we were able to bring this suggestive and fluid sequence to life. The project was initially commissioned by a brand, and has never been made available to the public.

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CREDITS
Client: It’s a Secret ;D
Creative direction: Psyop
Animation direction: nöbl
Compositing: Julien Nantiec & Cyril Izarn
Cell animation: Leyla kaddoura, Jakub Szczesniak, Laurent Box, Vic Chhun, Mathieu smorto, Wen Fan, Gaston Pacheco, Nicolas Toujan
Soundtrack: Valentin Cassidy Feat Spectre - Till The End
Music Direction and Production: Mooders

We strive towards specificity in film storytelling because it is the antidote to the generic. It has been codified as a rule within the script-coaching industry, and it is generally solid advice. But shorts are allowed to break rules whenever they like, especially when they are self-financed passion projects like Robin Joseph’s Fox and the Whale. Joseph isn’t concerned with finding meaning through dramatization, there is no richly developed protagonist with a compelling backstory. You’re not meant to connect to his film via a recognition of the plotting of the story, but through it’s spirit. It is not a film about a fox in search for a whale in any real sense, though that is what takes place on screen, but is no less than an allegory about the meaning of searching.

Now rules are rules for good reason, and by eschewing the trappings of a traditional narrative Fox and the Whale can test one’s patience in its 12 minute runtime. The comfort one finds through this existential journey then is in Joseph’s impeccable art. It is ironic that a film that aims for such lofty themes at the expense of specificity does so extoll in lush detail. The backgrounds of the film are glorious and the compositions sumptuous. Like John Muir, Joseph finds spiritual purpose in the wild, and seeks to impart that emotion to us. Those backgrounds exist in tension with the purposeful minimalism of the fox character however, his head a bare triangle with eyes, an arrow pointed to parts unknown. An abstraction at the heart of the film, the fox is a stand-in for us, for an idea, for anyone who journeys with purpose or without, and whom constructs meaning along the way, knowing that the destination may only contain disappointment.


A whale has, since Moby Dick, often stood in for obsession, but like many films this abstract there is much that can be read into Fox and the Whale. The timeline of the short is subject to interpretation, and in particular Joseph returns periodically to a particular shot of the fox on a celestial field. Is it a mirror of the stars on shallow water below, the cloud from which glimpses of the whale emerge simple fog? Or is it deeper—the birth of being, a connection hinting that the themes of the film are deeper and more ancient—the universe depicting the universal? The film plays like a tone poem, and like poetry symbolism plays a role, however your enjoyment of Fox and the Whale will likely depend heavily on how much the art, with its richly developed environs and its fantastic sound design, allow you to bypass attempts to grasp the film intellectually and access the film emotionally.

For this reviewer, Joseph succeeded. Part of it may be through how much of himself Joseph clearly puts into the film. The film is intensely personal for Joseph, a freelance animator who has worked on mainstream projects at Blue Sky, Dreamworks and Illumination, Joseph embarked on the risky path of refusing outside work to pursue his muse. 16 months of full time labor ensued to complete the film, largely through Photoshop. His partner Kim Leow chipped in with an estimated 3-4 months of work doing all the CG in the film. The process thus mirrors the themes, a risky quest, with an uncertain outcome. But the end result is stunning. On a purely aesthetic level it is one of the most gorgeous animations of recent memory, and for all of us who tread an unknown path, its storytelling is resonant.

A clever little two-hander, Ian Robertson’s The Proposal details how a relationship is tested in the strangest of situations—a restaurant robbery. It’s a high concept premise that feels almost hackey in its set-up: a proposal goes awry, when the “hidden ring” is snatched by a faceless robber. But, Robertson’s execution is the opposite of kitsch. He makes the bold stylistic choice to never really show the actual stick-up. After all, that’s all background noise for the “real” drama: the relationship that is being tested center screen.

As Robertson jokingly relates to Short of the Week: “The film was inspired by my fear of commitment, fear of grand romantic gestures and fear of puddings – I’m more of a savoury man myself.”

The Proposal works because while the actual situation is over-the-top, the character conversation between these two people isn’t. There’s real heart in the dialogue: each person coming to terms with the “next step” of their relationship and what that truly means. Of course, the serious conversation is peppered with terrific comedic moments, which largely come from the unseen robbery. The sound design is what really sells it—it works better because you don’t actually see much. Robertson also mines several other comic details, from language barrier jokes to the subtle symbolism of the central dessert—creme caramel—as an overly saccharine expression of romance.

Shot while Robertson was at the National Film & Television School in England, The Proposalwas filmed over the course of four days in a former nunnery in Oxfordshire, UK. It was filmed on 16mm (real film!) with a crew of roughly 30 people.

Now that he’s graduated film school, Robertson is hard at work developing a couple of features while also working in the music video and commercial world. His latest short film, Comeback Kid, a reincarnation-revenge-sex-thriller-comedy, is premiering at the BFI London Film Festival this year

Set entirely in, or around, a driving instructor’s car, Nils Vleugels’ (un)romantic comedy Hellingproef (Clutch Control) follows its lovestruck tutor as his utter adoration for one of his pupils leads him on a journey of obsession, with some unexpected consequences. Shot in just two days with a very small crew, this is a dark Dutch comedy set to make you laugh and cringe repeatedly throughout its breezy 13-minute duration.

“I like how a confined space forces the characters to resolve a conflict

A directorial debut for Vleugels, the writer/director set out to make a one location film initially with the aim of keeping crew and costs at a minimum, whilst also developing his confidence behind the camera. However, tapping into his love of single location films/tv episodes he used his knowledge to make these restrictions work in his favour and create a warm and compelling short.

“My favourite Hitchcock film is Rope“, Vleugels admits, “and I Love Breaking Bad’s ‘ The Fly’, Mad Men’s ‘The Suitcase’ and The Chinese Restaurant episode of Seinfeld. I like how a confined space forces the characters to resolve a conflict as they are bound together in the same place at the same time”.

Clutch Control might be the first time we’ve witnessed Vleugels take directorial control of a film, but it’s certainly not the first short he’s been involved in. Writer of the two previous DPPLR films we’ve featured on Short of the Week, genre-pieces Rotor and Arrêt Pipi, he obviously has a solid understanding of what makes an effective short film and is hoping to put this experience to good use with his next short Weeën (Labor) – a film based around his own experiences of becoming a father, that’s set to premiere at the Netherlands Film Festival on September 21st.

This will probably come off like a backhanded compliment, but few filmmakers today have a knack for creating such intensely unlikeable characters as Jordan Firstman. I realize that sounds like a turn-off (and it will be for some viewers), but Firstman also has the remarkable ability to make these despicable people interesting.

Call Your Father feels very much on brand for Firstman. As he displayed in the popular short The Disgustings and as a staff writer on the TBS series Search Party, when it comes to self absorbed, bitchy gay comedy, he’s practically an auteur. He’s a talented triple threat—a writer, director, and actor who has a very distinct voice. Having featured his previous film, Sold., here on Short of the Week we’re obviously big admirers of his work.

When I first watched Call Your Father, I didn’t know what to make of it. I found the lead character Josh (played by Firstman) so insufferable that I was actually getting genuinely angry…my own self loathing and hatred of millennial selfishness rearing its head. But, the fact that it instilled such a strong reaction in me…that a fictional character was able to stir me up so effortlessly just showcases Firstman’s talent. You may hate Josh, but he’s endlessly fascinating.

On the converse, you have Greg: the older, “too nice” gay man who lacks the confidence to stand-up to his date/bully. At times, Greg acts as a stand-in for the audience. How far would you be willing to tolerate a person like Josh before reaching your breaking point? Is this kid just an asshole? Or, is he really damaged? Maybe both?

Essentially, Firstman is critiquing these two archetypes: the young, self-centered millennial who thinks he knows everything and the overly polite gay man who uses his kindness as a way to avoid confrontation. After all, what’s worse? The person who has no sensor? Or, the person who is too afraid to say what he’s really thinking?

This taps into a larger point—this divide between two very different generations of gay men, and the misguided societal belief that two gay men will always magically relate to one another strictly because they both happen to be homosexual. In a great interview with Out Magazine, Firstman expands in more detail:

“I had written both the characters as versions of myself. I’d just turned 25 and felt like I was over the phase of my life where I was a young, impulsive asshole making bad decisions all the time. But I wasn’t ready to be old and boring yet. so I wrote both characters as the worst case scenario of both those things.
I dated a lot of older guys in my twenties. And I began thinking that the way gay people are perceived—that we’re supposed to be a community, but there’s an ocean of difference between people who lived through AIDS and people who didn’t. We’re all expected to understand each other, but with straight people there isn’t that expectation—old and young straight people aren’t expected to get each other.”

Call Your Father is a film that will frustrate you as much as it entertains you, skittering from moments of black comedy straight into serious character work. It’s a deft and satirical tonal balancing act and shows how Firstman is both staying true to what interests him thematically, while also expanding his visual bravura.

Written and Directed by Jordan Firstman

Staring Jordan Firstman and Drew Droege


End Credits Music by HI FASHION

A mockumentary about two roommates who share a cottage in the United Kingdom, Brian and Charles is one of those films that you immediately want to share with everyone you know. Brian–the first roommate–is a poorly groomed, gravelly voiced farmer who spends much of the film getting frustrated by the actions of his roommate Charles, a freeloader who eats Brian’s food without asking. I suppose I should mention that Charles is a robot that Brian built when he got depressed one winter. They’ve been friends ever since. As you can imagine, they are an odd couple. Brian is a stubborn and angry man whose go-to clothing choice is overalls, and Charles looks like an old man mask plopped on top of a boxy, half-pitched tent. Their chemistry is undeniably strong, though, which is something I never thought I’d say about a film where one of the main characters is a robot, or to be more accurate, a film where an one person stands under a robot costume and another person presses a button to make the robot speak with the same cadence as Stephen Hawking’s computer. The film’s mockumentary style allows us to ignore these real-world details, and the end result is an unrealistic situation that passes for “believable enough”. It is an absolute joy to see Brian and Charles banter back and forth as they come into conflict with each other, and credit must be given to the creators of this film for giving a robot character such a gloriously strange personality. According to director Jim Archer, “The only money we spent was on petrol, food, and an Airbnb in Snowdonia, Wales” which they had never seen before in person. The film was shot with a very small crew and improvisation was encouraged. It was shot over two days and nights in the AirBnB and surrounding areas. I think they slept in the AirBnB as well. All in all, their usage of the Snowdonia space is impressive. But I digress. Despite budget-related limitations, this feels like a much more well-funded film, and it doesn’t really resemble the mockumentaries we normally see. At the end of the day, it looks more like Cary Fukunaga’s Jane Eyre than The Office, and there’s just enough emotion in there to give Charles’s Tin Man a heart. It isn’t right to say that it’s filled with twists, but it is filled with unexpected surprises, and I hope it brings you joy. Please go watch it! I have nothing else to say.

Los Angeles is the home of nice weather and big ole’ Hollywood dreams. It’s also the home of complete and utter bullsh*t. It’s a known stereotype that the City of Angels is full of phonies—people faking it until they actual make it, a land of sycophants and flatterers. But, even if you’re not embroiled in the morass of the entertainment industry, Jordan Firstman’s Sold. is bound to connect to you on some level. After all, don’t we all know people like this?

We were first introduced to Mr. Firstman’s work last year with The Disgustings, a cringe-inducing, LGBT festival darling about awful people saying awful things. And, with Sold. you can definitely sense some similar thematic and comedic roots. The humor is, again, cringe-inducing and awkward, but, whereas in The Disgustings we were just watching horrible people be horrible (something that grated on me personally), in Sold. there’s at least a sense of empathy for our pitiful protagonist, Neil (albeit, small). His neediness is so pathetic that it almost becomes endearing. He doesn’t need a script sale—he just wants someone to talk to, and even then, he can’t stop talking about what Hollywood culture has conditioned him to focus on. That in and of itself is an oddly heartbreaking message—people are people, and amidst all the schmoozing and cocktail parties, we really just need someone to love us back. Can a brother get a hug?

This isn’t the type of a film will that work for everyone. It adopts a similar structure and meandering pace as another SotW pick from this year, Funnel. But, like Funnel, it’s a film with a defined beginning, middle, and end, and the character of Neil (played by Firstman himself) is well-realized enough that he feels like more than just a caricature (even though he is definitely based on L.A. caricatures).

Firstman really is a triple-threat with a strong comedic voice—based on the style he has established with Sold. and his previous work, we imagine he’ll be approached to direct bigger and more defined projects in the very near future. We just hope he has practiced his elevator pitch.