BFI Future Film Festival 2021
Next up on our 2021 festival tour is BFI Future Film Festival, showcasing the best short films from creatives aged 16 to 25. Hosted by the British Film Institute, it’s the UK’s largest festival for young and emerging filmmakers and hosts a variety of free events and screenings – and, this year, it was all virtual. Below, our editorial team share their thoughts on some of the festival’s female-directed films.
Heartthrob (dir. Chloe Maylaw)
TW: Assault/Consent
A powerful and poignant short that effortlessly encapsulates trauma and the dissociative mind, and reflects on current issues many young women sadly face within the creative industries. Subtly moving between scenes portraying both imagination and reality, director Chloe Maylaw succeeds in exploring themes of identity, anger and denial and carefully constructs characters that express both innocence and the manipulation of power. Her direction style sees a challenging first person perspective with scenes flawlessly melting into each other, and there is a strong sense of music being used metaphorically as a doorway to dissociate and disconnect. The story itself follows 17-year-old Mel (Amy Kinder), an aspiring guitarist, deeply enamoured, as many a teenage girl is, by her favourite musician Hugo (Ronan Finnegan). News soon breaks of Ronan behaving inappropriately with his fans and leads to a fractured sense of self within Mel, and a search to find a new identity within her art. Amy Kinder explores her character with both depth and strength, with a simplistic elegance akin to an everyday India Stoker. Collectively, Heartthrob is an insightful piece that carefully addresses important themes on assault and sexual consent with tenderness and bravery.
Written by Am Jones
Girls & The Party (dir. Paloma López)
Desire is big theme in this punchy short. We’re thrown into a very normal ritual of a group of friends getting ready together before leaving for a party, the writing is realistic to girlhood, and almost feels like you’re overhearing your younger sisters loudly dress up before you have to drop them off at someone’s house party. Our attention is then thrown to Mercedes alone with her friend Julia, where unspoken desire is conveyed through simple touches and savouring the moment of being alone together amid the girl group. The colouring is gorgeous and I enjoyed how 00’s trends such as glitter eyeshadow and glossy GLOSSY lipgloss have made a comeback.
Written by Caris Rianne
Double Happiness (dir. Scarlett Li)
A clever tale blending both romance and absurdist humour, Double Happiness perfectly captures the dynamics of family, bringing warmth and childlike honesty to a tale seeking to bring to light the chaotic realities of marriage. Shot in the city of Shenzhen, the film centres on the traditional aspects of a Chinese wedding, and breathes life into the not-so-subtle tensions of meddling family members, seeking out their own agendas ahead of the couple's union. With modern day marriages in China being made freely between couples in love, we are thoughtfully reminded that aspects of power and status still lurk around each corner. Overlooking the couple's attempts at simple enjoyment, we see tensions slowly boil to the surface and watch one by one as each parent stubbornly reverts into a manifestation of their own childlike behaviours. Overall the film is a powerful and heartfelt portrayal of love and traditions within other cultures, and director Scarlett Li goes unparalleled in her attempts to combine both a sharply witty and dramatic interpretation of human behaviours in their most raw and natural form.
Written by Am Jones
The Tale of Edgar Hare (dir. Hannah Miller, Abi Lindon, and Hana Bhatti)
A delightfully gory short that eerily portrays the brutal reality of our animal instincts in their purest form, baring their teeth for the world to see. Directed as a joint effort by Hannah Miller, Abi Lindon and Hana Bhatti, The Tale of Edgar Hare is an exquisitely put together piece that pays astonishing attention to detail. With both an impressive use of stop-motion animation, and the use of both sound and design to creatively illustrate both a change in power and emotion, the film is a shrewd nod to Edgar Allan Poe's classic gothic short story of The Tell-Tale Heart. As beautiful as it is foreboding in its vision, the film's creation style in many ways could be seen as a reflection of the characters themselves, with true personas being hidden behind a sense of charm. Despite its mere two-minute length, together the team has created something visually memorable that truly stands out as nothing short of brilliant.
Written by Am Jones
Wastopia (dir. Qianhui Yu)
Imagine dropping some acid and then having a trip about plastic bags floating in the sky and empty bottles swimming in the ocean just like fish would do. If you can’t imagine it, you can just watch Wastopia instead.
This short animation is exactly how I imagine Planet Earth to look like in a few centuries (or maybe even less if we don’t start acting a bit more seriously about environmental problems). Wastopia takes on the ever more important subject of pollution and environmentalism, but, instead of taking a political approach, we’re looking at kawaii pieces of garbage floating around and smiling, unaware of what they really are – you can even peep a seagull made entirely out of bones chilling on the beach. What’s even more chilling is the absence of any human being: the plastic wasteland is the only thing left on the planet; one lonely turtle is dragging herself across the beach in a daunting way. All of these smiley characters are the products of human discard, which we shouldn't leave unchecked until it is too late.
Wastopia is a brilliant and bright critique of today's world and our endless consumption, turned into an almost fairytale-like story.
Written by Desiree Balma
Meow or Never (dir. Neeraja Raj)
Meow or Never is a delightful musical, which sees Pucha, a pink kitty, travelling outer space in search of the meaning of life. She arrives on a planet, convinced she’s finally going to find something meaningful, only to encounter a space puppy that really wants to help, but ends up getting in the way and accidentally causes Pucha’s spaceship to take off and land on the other side of the planet. In between arguments and songs, the two run into a series orfwhimsical characters on the planet, including a group of marshmallows that have their own marshmallow god.
It’s just after Pucha accidentally trips catnip and manages to open her third eye that she convinces herself that she’s never going to find the meaning of life, only to be rescued again by the doggie. This time, she finally decides to stay on the planet and stop her fanatical search for the meaning of life.
Meow or Never is a brilliant and colourful story exploring one's sense of self-discovery and the very real possibility that we’re not going to find it simply by looking for it planet to planet, – on the contrary, we’re very much likely to find it right when we’re not looking for it.
Written by Desiree Balma
Life is a Highway (dir. Neelakshi Yadav)
Life is a Highway is a brilliant documentary about auto-rickshaws – despite being one of the most essential services in India and especially in New Delhi, we know so little about them. This short is a great window looking into an industry that literally moves the whole of a country 24/7.
Most drivers have to endure long hours on the job and a small percentage of them is actually making a profit out of the job; in fact, most of the drivers don’t even own their own cars but are still renting them. The common denominator is that every single last one of them is working these long hours and receiving abuse from rude customers just so they can finance their families back home. A series of short interviews slowly unravels the social status that these drivers have and how they get treated both by their own customers and by the police as well, who seem to be helping some and completely disregarding others.
In a country where the population reaches 1.3 billion, it eventually transpires from this series of interviews that the only thing that the drivers are looking for – and, in a sense, expecting as well – is respect for what they do and for their own persona. Life is a Highway is a brilliant critique of a society that often forgets about the very same people that created it in the first place.
Written by Desiree Balma
Girls’ Night (dir. Ismay Bickerton)
A sweet multimedia short film combining the thing that is most accessible to us at the moment – nature – and something that many people are missing – pre-drink gossip. The realistic dialogue is spoken by pretty flowers whose colours define the personalities of this friendship group, who are relatable and many viewers will recognise within their own lives. It’s such a simple concept, but really makes us think about all the nonsense that’s spoken in the lead up to a night out – all those silly phrases that wouldn’t have been given a second thought, but are now yearned for. A lovely tribute to a time that is hopefully not too far out of reach.
Written by Beth Lindsay
Black (Dudu) (dir. Simisolaoluwa Akande)
The angelic and striking images of Black men and women, alongside the telling words of an anonymous narrator, create an altogether beautiful piece of work in Dudu. This experimental documentary explores identity and the importance of representation on screen, something that even in 2021 is very much lacking. Although white people will never be able to understand the Black experience, this short film can at least give us a slight insight of the effects that colourism can have on a person and is a celebration of the beauty of the Black community in all its glory.
Written by Beth Lindsay
Mind (Full) (dir. Tilly Wallace)
The beautiful, delicate artwork in Mind (Full) is used to tell the story of a mind that cannot rest. Stop-motion animation is used to capture the action in an immersing way that is heightened by the precise use of sounds that ingrain themselves into the viewer’s mind. A lovely example of how the combination of several media can create something so beautiful and creative and can translate a feeling that cannot be communicated through words.
Written by Beth Lindsay
The Massive F*cking Bender (dir. Laura Marcus)
Laura Marcus’ The Massive F*cking Bender begins with rhyme, a clever choice for the poetic but humorous content. The film thrusts us into the world and mind of our protagonist (Marcus), as they begin their journey into self-expression and typical student drinking culture.
The rolling monologue and sound effects stop and start as she stresses, waiting to find out whether she got a place at the university of her choice; sadly, Marcus’ character is rejected, and in getting a place at a British university known for its parties, she decides to go on a bender. However, the twist is that the 18-year-old student has never drunk a drop of alcohol in her life.
The short is sectioned into chapters and pulls the audience through her master plan alongside her, with close-up intimate shots and funny character archetypes (also portrayed by Marcus), such as the ‘brunch bunch’, that captures modern day culture well with just a hint of sarcasm.
Marcus lays out her plan for the audience to see in writing and, despite the lack of locations and set, the film doesn’t feel repetitive or low budget. When she discovers that there are too many watchful eyes at the local shops to ‘acquire the goods’ she resorts to a classic British adolescent’s Plan B: stealing the booze from her parents’ cupboard (something I’m sure a lot of us can relate to, whether we’d like to admit it or not).
The transformation chapter was particularly interesting, with the student referring to her mother’s bronzer she is applying as ‘misogyny dust’; this particular section made my mind wander to themes of finding yourself, trying out new identities and even assimilating in the preparation for university and life outside your comfort zone.
The Massive F*cking Bender is a fun yet insightful window into student life and flying the nest, and Laura Marcus impresses not only with her performance range, but production skills and sheer dedication at making such an independent project.
Written by Larissa Hird
disjointed (dir. Clara Helbig)
TW: suicide mention, images of animal cruelty, violence
disjointed is a short documentary exploring the trauma of meat processing plant workers. Animal welfare is a very important topic to me as someone who lives a vegan lifestyle – however, the film not only acknowledges the suffering of factory farmed animals, but also the suffering inflicted on the workers within the meat and dairy industry.
Two men who worked at a meat processing plant tell stories of violence, suicide attempts, toxic masculinity and self-loathing during their time at the factories, one admitting he felt like it was something he couldn’t share in therapy. The men act out the movements of their roles in front of natural backdrops, seemingly working through the traumatic memories; however, the additional footage from within the processing plants tells the very real, and much more graphic and disturbing, story.
The meat and dairy industries almost seem like a taboo topic to discuss in the 21st century; we all know it’s happening, we just don’t (want) to see it. However, I’d like to make it clear that I have nothing but sympathy for the two interviewees. One delves into how he was switched off from the violence and suffering, not seeing the creatures he helped to slaughter as the same as the animals he would pet and love when he left work – that was, until he began taking an interest in becoming a fox-hunting saboteur and, eventually, vegan.
Beautifully shot and handled, Helbig’s short explores the violence within the farming industries with an empathetic but honest lens, not only giving a voice to the animals, but a voice to the workers who are traumatised and forgotten about by their employers and consumers every day.
Written by Larissa Hird
An Alternative Method (dir. Hannah Schierbeek)
Conveying a somewhat nostalgic feel despite the rising tension through its editing, colour palette and cinematography, Hannah Schierbeek’s An Alternative Method blurs the lines between reality and delusion as a dance teacher battles with her fears.
Confiding in her neighbour, the ballerina (Mariana Castro) reveals that she believes she is being stalked by a stranger on her way home from work. The audio is layered both over the two women’s conversation and handheld footage of the dance classes, making the audience feel they are included, – they are the concerned neighbour, or maybe even the ballerina.
Castro’s performance is not overstated but creates a real sense of anxiety and gives a realistic insight into trauma and the symptoms of hyper-vigilance associated with it; being tired all of the time, paranoia and the search for relief.
Written by Larissa Hird
Early Grief Special (dir. Jessica Chowdhury)
Early Grief Special is a charming stop-motion short by director Jessica Chowdhury. The story is set in a small, greasy spoon-type café, with a new customer attending for seemingly the first time. A small (and, in my opinion, adorable) skeleton watches the customer from behind a menu, waiting to see how they will react to the strange establishment.
Frightened and confused, the customer orders some coffee and food, trying to ignore the reminders of their pain, which are quite literally plastered to the walls. Standard food and drink posters are littered with sometimes vague, sometimes veracious quotes and messages such as ‘don’t cry just eat up’ and ‘time heals all wounds’.
The food and drink morphs and moves, leaving the customer feeling sick and overwhelmed. Flies land on the order and strange creatures slither from the cup, until we get a glimpse inside the customer’s head. Isolated and lonely within the darkness of their own grief, their brain catches fire, burning away, until once again the customer finds themselves sitting in the café, and realises that it is a safe place to grieve.
Early Grief Special is an artistic and nuanced film that tenderly explores what it is to grieve, and how, in surrendering ourselves to it, we can heal.
Written by Larissa Hird
In the Garden (2020, dir. India-Ines Levy)
In the Garden sees a wealthy man and woman lounging in – you guessed it – a garden. It’s the garden of a stately home in 18th century England, it’s late summer, and he asks her about her dreams. She lies to him every time he asks a question – she says one thing, and we see another through her private fantasies. It’s amusing, but sad, and we sense that something more sinister is at hand. The woman fantasises about leaving the palace forever with varying degrees of severity, from running away to dying. It’s a glossy period piece, which means it’s very on trend in the age of Bridgerton and The Great, but there are glimpses of darker undertones that make this film more intriguing. The three-minute runtime leaves the viewer wanting more from the film, though – you want to get under the woman’s skin and fully uncover the darkness that is clearly lying within.
Written by Emily Garbutt
Burn & Soothe (2019, dir. Shiyi Li)
Burn & Soothe is an animated music video, but it’s also an engaging short film. The vibrant colours and fluid movements of the animation give the film a dreamlike, hallucinatory quality as we follow a woman driving along a winding road while the sun sets. She smokes and takes in her surroundings, and as she ponders where the road – and the night – will take her, we witness the different directions her evening could go in once the sun goes down. She imagines shaving her legs and putting on makeup; she stops for a drink, meets a man at a bar, and goes home with him. When the film ends, she parks her car at the top of a hill; she looks down at a brightly lit city below her, all the possibilities of the night spread out ahead of her. In a world of lockdowns and isolation, watching these colourful, spontaneous possibilities unfurl on the screen is tantalising and delicious.
Written by Emily Garbutt
As Far As Our Eyes Can See (2019, dir. Lilly Zhuang)
Inspired by avant-garde filmmaker Jonas Mekas, As Far As Our Eyes Can See is a visual diary made by director Lilly Zhuang and five of her friends, providing a snapshot of their lives during a springtime, pre-pandemic, in New York City. Interspersed with handwritten text of the five’s musings and thoughts during this period, the film has an intimate and unpolished feel to it. It almost feels like a vlog, the video diary format made popular by YouTube influencers, but that comparison does the film a disservice – it’s much more raw and genuine. It feels nostalgic and poignant – these are, obviously, not the viewer’s own memories, but it almost feels like they are. Watching it, you find yourself missing the blue skies and cherry blossom trees of a Central Park that you’ve never seen.
Written by Emily Garbutt
You can read more about BFI Future Film Festival here.
Article edited by Emily Garbutt
