Glasgow Short Film Festival 2021 Review
In March our writers attended the Glasgow Short Film Festival, which was entirely online, and watched a wide range of different films by female and non-binary filmmakers. Some films provided an exploration of lockdown and pandemic themes with new programmes added called No New Normal, Big Dog Energy and Locked Down to reflect on the strange last year and, while other films explored more timeless and ongoing issues, there were a few that were pure escapism. Read our writers thoughts on these eclectic and exciting films below:
Fly away with me (dir. Maude Matton, Amina Mohamed, Nikki Shaffeeullah)
If you ever wondered what a day in the life of a drone looks like, stop what you’re doing and watch Fly Away with me, a short about a young drone currently working in a prison as security. We get to know her and her sibling’s origin story, who were all born tiny scanners before becoming fully grown drones. While we get to have a look at the prison she’s working in, we also get a sense of her personality, which is fully formed by the way, because yes, even drones have feelings! We also get to know exactly what drones are supposed to be doing on a daily basis: her routine is pretty standard, covering every single inch of the prison and serving the people at the beating drum of SURVEIL - CONTAIN - PROTECT.
Between the VHS grainy filter and the drone rumblings about everyday life it really looks like we’re into her head or even better her circuits, and what’s even more interesting is that we get to see her being the robotic being she is in the beginning but we also get to see her almost become human, especially when she mentions feeling the sun on her face while leaving the prison grounds for a few minutes.
A series of images of prisons and inmates closes the chapter leaving us thinking mostly about them at this point and about the fact that even a piece of flying metal could see them for what they actually are, humans.
Written by Desiree Balma
Cockpera (dir. Kata Gugić)
Cockpera is exactly what you are imagining: a cockfight but a very classy one. This animated short shows us exactly what would happen if there was one too many cocks around. It’s also a riff on the Fightings cocks and the eagle fable from Aesop, which sees precisely two cocks fighting between them and just when you think one of them is the loudest and brightest and is prancing around the yard, an eagle flies by attracted by the noise and snatches the cock out of the coop. Kata Gugić version takes an even more dark turn when instead of the classic eagle we see a human hand grabbing the loud cock by the throat and you can imagine what happens next.
Cockpera is a funny and irreverent animation that amuses you with classical music and traumatizes you with real-life events.
Written by Desiree Balma
The end of suffering (A proposal) (dir. Jacqueline Lentzou)
Just when Sofia is on the verge of another panic attack, the universe decides to contact her and have a conversation with her. The universe being the universe doesn’t have a voice but more like a background noise which is how it can conversate with Sofia. Sofia is trying to explain why she’s feeling down and what caused her to panic but the universe strongly tells her to stop with the habit of trying to make sense of everything as it only gives birth to pointless thoughts. During their conversation, according to the Universe, Sofia finds out she’s originally from Mars, where rules are fundamentally different from the ones on Earth and most importantly everything is red. The universe then proceeds to describe to her all the various differences between the two planets in a sort of symphony which eventually helps Sofia get over her panic attack.
Written by Desiree Balma
Store policy (dir. Sarah Arnold)
Content Guidance: miscarriage
Store policy is a gentle story about women working in a supermarket who have to endure endless hours of mind-numbing work for minimum wage. Even though we get to meet every single woman and their detached and thoughtless boss, Store Policy focuses the attention on a particular woman, who’s been fighting to get more working hours but at the same time, she’s clearly in some sort of pain. This gets highlighted by her health visibly deteriorating on-screen and her constant request of sitting on a stool rather than standing in the same spot for hours at the time.
The more details we get to see the more we find out about what’s really going on, until the very end of the short when the woman suffers a miscarriage at the very till she’s been relegated for time. If the story per se isn’t enough to reach us, the entire short setting is stripped of every single detail that could distract the viewer from the story itself. The supermarket, being a non-place if you want, is completely white; the only thing that matters is the women working. Even the customers are all gone, we’re just able to see the women interacting with them and nothing else. This powerful nod to minimalism shifts the focus on the only important thing there is in front of us: the women working in absurd conditions for very little pay that have to endure all of this on a daily basis and still get ignored by their boss, who’s just interested in the well-being of the store and customers. Sarah Arnold tells a story that is shockingly way too common and refusing realism makes an even more powerful short.
Written by Desiree Balma
Sudden Death (dir. Rhona Mühlebach)
Driving in the rain through the desolate landscapes of Galloway Park in Scotland, Director Rhona Mühlebach investigates the Sudden Death occurring throughout the forest and the romanticised misconceptions of these wild wastelands. A witty take on surrealist humour, the film plays with the concepts of a crime drama, to which Mühlebach took her original inspirations for the film whilst being immersed within its ghostly terrain. Set within a nature management zone, a recreational forest for humans managed by the inspector and her staff, we see the nature around us as something beautiful that exists mysteriously and romantically, almost as if with no effort on our behalf, the reality behind that is human intervention, and beyond that is a disease. The film's killer is none other than nature itself, and the plant disease Phytophthora Ramorum or "sudden oak death" gives the film its title and is the reason for the inspector’s investigation. A clever film with a darkly humorous touch, that opens our eyes to the realities of the wilderness around us.
Written by Am Jones
Winners Bitch (dir. Sam Gurry)
A fast-paced portrait exploring the life of Virginia Hampton, a cut-throat contender among the all-breed American Kennel Club. Sam Gurry pieces together a vibrant mixed-media stop motion with abstract visuals and found footage documenting the visionary herself. The film has an intrinsically zine-like feel, with hand-drawn illustrations and colourful animation that collide together to creatively capture the innermost workings of a sole individual. Heralding from a working-class background, Virginia Hampton clawed her way to the top, in an often merciless fashion spoken upon by her family members and peers through fleeting voice clips layered throughout the short. As we speed through over 40 years of her life's work, Sam Gurry proves they can take a simple tale, and turn it into something visually ensnaring and lovably kitsch with Virginia Hampton herself remaining an indubitable force to be reckoned with.
Written by Am Jones
12th Man (dir. Caitlin Black)
A strong favourite for all of the Rianne Pictures team, 12th Man expertly draws upon the important issues faced whilst being openly gay within a stereotype, overtly masculine environment. Sensitively working to explore themes of homophobia, toxic masculinity, behaviour and body language within the film's premise, all funds raised from the short have been graciously donated to Stonewall Scotland in support of the LGBTIQ community. Set within the realms of a football social scene, the film forecasts a difficult romance between lead characters Angus, played by Scottish BAFTA winner Lorn McDonald, and Charlie played by Guy Hodgkinson. Director Caitlin Black flawlessly captures the pain and difficulty faced by so many within the LGBTIQ community of being able to simply exist happily and safely as your true self. Stylistically a sense of dissociation is seen to depict the physical symptoms of anxiety throughout the short, with a camera style that jumps from scene to scene and skilfully uses silence and sound to portray both awkwardness and emotion. The film strongly reflects true to life difficulties that many are still fighting against and is a good reminder that breaking down these barriers as a community is something that must continue.
Written by Am Jones
The Shift (dir. Laura Carreira)
Directed by Laura Carreira, The Shift is a provocative short that thoughtfully hits home the stark reality of poverty and its effect within Scotland and the U.K. Shot almost entirely in the aisles of a supermarket, the film still manages to powerfully project the experience many people face in an attempt to simply keep themselves afloat. The film shows the catastrophic impact that something as simple as losing a shift for work, can have on others. Laura Carreira manages to effortlessly illustrate even the minor details of life on the breadline, with Anna Russell-Martin personifying this mindset of survivalist living. For some of us, we've already been there, having to pick from leftovers in the reduced section or wistfully running our fingers along the outline of items we can't afford. The mix of background chatter, arguments between parents and children suddenly snapping us out of our spiralling thoughts, is aptly portrayed by both Actor & Director. The short culminates with a moral that resonates with us all and highlights the realities that have affected even more of us due to the pandemic and how to help each other through.
Written by Am Jones
Bella (dir. Thelyia Petraki)
Thelyia Petraki beautifully pieces together parts of a broken confession with Bella, with an almost poetic narrative. As an audience, we are voyeurs to the innermost thoughts and feelings of the film's protagonist Anthi and the film candidly tells a story of family, politics, growth and resilience spoken from the lost letters of the real-life Anthi, gifted to the Director from a friend. We watch as her inner world unfolds and tells the story of a working mother in Greece towards the end of the Cold War. The letters are read to a backdrop of found-footage style clips offering an insight into droll everyday activities, special occasions, urban cityscapes and the passage of time passing that briefly work to summarise Anthi's surroundings. The film features Elena Topalidou in the lead role, who visually brings to life the struggles and subtle pangs of loneliness experienced by Anthi. Menial tasks become a thing of beauty, from recalling jokes shared between family members, to anecdotes of hiding from landlords when bills can't be met. Thelyia Petraki has worked hard to do justice to the real lives behind the story of Bella and has achieved in creating a film that's sincere and warm.
Written by Am Jones
Expensive Shit (dir. Adura Onashile)
Content Guidance: Sexual assault
Expensive Shit revolves around a mirror. It’s a two-way mirror in a club bathroom – on one side, leering men watch as women reapply their makeup, adjust their clothing, wash their hands. On the other sits Tolu (Modupe Adeyeye), a bathroom attendant, unnoticed, until she gets a sign; the men choose a woman, and she brings her to them. She is an undocumented immigrant, and the film deftly explores the helplessness that situation brings with it, the simultaneous exploitation and invisibility in her workplace. If anyone does notice her, it’s to throw racist slurs her way, but there’s one woman, Louise (Kim Allan), who is kind. She leaves Tolu generous tips; she dances with her to the muffled beats from the dance floor. On this particular night, though, when she’s staring into the mirror, Tolu gets the signal – the men want Louise. There’s nothing she can do, and it’s overwhelming; the darkness and claustrophobia of the club become stifling. Everything goes silent when the brevity of her choices hits her and, as the film ends, her guilt becomes rage in a powerful conclusion.
Written by Emily Garbutt
Consumed (dir. Karen Lamond)
Content Guidance: Miscarriage
Consumed is a study of grief, teetering between realist drama and macabre horror. It opens with an ultrasound; a closeup of gel on Faye’s (Shauna Macdonald) stomach, and we learn with her that the sonographer can’t detect a heartbeat. Faye goes home and sinks into her grief and a warm bath. There’s blood in the water, and she fishes something out from beneath the surface: the miscarried embryo. Unsure what to do with it, she puts it in a jar of oil. The jar is her secret; she keeps it in her pocket, in her bag, under her pillow. She takes it out when she’s alone and kisses it. Her partner, Tom (Emun Eliiot), is frustrated; he doesn’t understand how she’s feeling, and she keeps her secret from him too. It’s an intense and uneasy film and a harrowing portrait of one woman’s descent into all-consuming grief.
Written by Emily Garbutt
Scuzz (dir. Alia Ghafar)
When we first meet Kim (Paula Nugent), she’s on stage, playing the bass in a band, but something isn’t quite right – she seems disconnected. Something has happened between her and Lee (Jack Stewart), the lead singer, and everyone knows about it. Later, after the gig, they’re packing up their instruments into a van, and Kim is distracted. Her bass (except it’s not really hers, it’s Lee’s) gets stolen by a teenage boy (Keon Crampsie). She chases him through the streets of Glasgow until, out of breath, he stops. He tells her that he took the guitar because he wants to play it, and she decides against calling the police. They start talking – it turns out they’re from the same neighbourhood and went to the same school, and they bond over these facts and some late-night chips. It turns out they both feel disconnected in their own way, but it becomes clear they each have something to learn from each other – while the boy, Ryan, sees what his future could look like in Kim, she realises that she’s no longer a misunderstood kid at school; she realises she can stand up for herself, whether that’s against bass thieves or horrible ex-boyfriends.
Written by Emily Garbutt
Letter to my Mother (dir. Amina Maher)
Content Guidance: Sexual abuse, sexual assault.
A Letter to my Mother is a poignant documentary short that is equal parts poignant and painful. The film follows the director, Amina, who was the protagonist of Ten (2002). In Ten, Amina and her mother played themselves and followed her mother and him as they engaged in conversation together. In Letter to My Mother, Amina takes the stage for herself and addresses the past with a radically intimate lens. The film opens with Amina, a transgender woman, shaving her body in slow, meditative movements as the shots linger over her body to the sound of scraping razors across flesh. In the background, Amina speaks aloud to her mother, detailing the atrocities of her childhood in which she was raped and abused by a family member. The unflinching use of visuals and narrative ensures that the viewer has to confront Amina’s complex feelings of love, resentment, and trauma along with Amin while questioning how one can deal with the past when it has treated them so horribly.
This is also a film that deals with identity, which is seen as Amina, who has been getting dressed in front of the camera, ask out loud “How do you think I look in a dress?”. The room is empty except for her; Amina speaks to her mother who is not there. In doing so, Amin creates a sense of loss in her film which is symbolic of the mother who is not, and who was not, there for her in her time of need.
In turn, A Letter to my Mother is experimental, daring and a perfect visual example of what it means to have a complicated relationship with a parent. It touches on pain and ensures that its viewer does too, which makes for a touching viewing experience that leaves you remembering the film hours after it ended.
Written by Susanna Demelas
I Like Tomorrow (dir. Jennifer Reeder, Nancy Andrews)
I Like Tomorrow is a powerhouse of hybridity. Combining sci-fi, live-action, animation, comedy, and musical elements, this is a film that effortlessly experiments with genre and form. The film uses a space station as its set and follows an astronaut as she navigates a love triangle. The members of the love triangle are the present astronaut, the past astronaut, and the future version of herself, and all versions of her are played by the same actor.
The film explores the meaning of space, as the three versions of the astronaut use the setting of outer space, while also discussing the meaning of “space” in a relationship, with the astronaut telling different versions of herself that she needs space from her. In doing so, this film explores how a person can have several different meaningful relationships to space – no matter how they choose to define it.
With its bright, hyperreal use of colour and visuals, I Like Tomorrow is a unique, quirky watching experience that combines discussing complex questions with comedy. In turn, it successfully proves that filmmaking can answer the “big questions” of selfhood and relationships in a way that is fun and engaging for the viewer.
Written by Susanna Demelas
Clean with Me (After Dark) (dir. Gabrielle Stemmer)
Clean with Me (After Dark) explores the online and offline life of a group of women living in the USA, married to people working in the military. The film itself is layered onto a PC display and within a YouTube player to mimic the platform in which so many share snippets of their day to day lives, much like the women we get to know throughout the film. The style did remind me of successful films from the last few years such as Host and Unfriended, however the short isn’t a horror, but a documentary; both the factual context along with the mis-en-scene felt particularly relevant and powerful following the COVID-19 pandemic and subsequent lockdowns worldwide.
The subjects have taken up filming themselves cleaning and uploading it to YouTube, a fairly new trend that sees normal people sharing normal aspects of their life in order to connect with and provide comfort to viewers wherever they may be. Despite this, as the film delves deeper, we discover that the women creating this content aren’t as organised and happy as they may seem. The videos include talk of a community, of friends they have found since beginning filming, however, many admit they struggle with their routines, going long periods without seeing their partners, sometimes raising children as a single parent, keeping on top of household chores and suffering from loneliness, anxiety and depression.
Clean with Me (After Dark) highlights how people can be isolated despite an illusion of togetherness, reality vs. what people may want you to see online and the mask some may present to the outside (or inside) world, as well as the role of women, especially military wives whom in staying home to parent and take care of the house are affected in huge ways.
Written by Larissa Hird
Wild Lea (dir. Maria Teresa Salcedo Montero)
A colourful and independent stray cat, Lea, falls from a tree and becomes injured while exploring the forest. Previously lonely and a lone ranger, Lea meets Ciro, a kind ragdoll who takes the apprehensive cat back to his home to care for her.
Stunning shots of real-life natural scenery paired with cute and eye-catching animations along with engaging sound make for an enthralling children’s short that can appeal to a much wider audience.
Despite Lea’s initial yearning for freedom and solitude after being nursed back to health among Ciro’s adoptive family of fixed and previously broken things, she soon comes to find her place amongst the other once lonely and hurt characters and learn the meaning of friendship and companionship, without losing her sense of freedom and wild, carefree spirit.
Written by Larissa Hird
Fancy a Cuppa? (dir. Lotte Cassidy)
Illustrator and animator Lotte Cassidy’s Fancy a Cuppa?, made up of beautiful and vibrant sketch-like artwork, a disorganised but electric soundscape and voice recordings, allow the viewer a window into the memories of her own grandmother.
Cassidy’s grandmother talks us through some fond memories she recalls, as they come and go as she ages, while lovely illustrations guide us along the way; the imagery is familiar and comfortable, evoking a feeling of warmth, much like a cuppa or hug. Faces, places and everyday objects such as slippers and piles of envelopes dance across the screen as we are carried through an experimental and personal short delving into memory, childhood and love, with both an emotional and raw but playful and wholesome lens.
Written by Larissa Hird
A(u)ntie Empire ( dir. Niamh McKeown & Julia Taudevin)
After seeing McKeown’s Farmland (2020) at a festival last year and thoroughly enjoying the short, I was delighted to see her credited as co-director on A(u)ntie Empire. The film’s first noticeable characteristic is the aspect ratio, evoking a nostalgic and old-fashioned feel as the viewer is met by Auntie (Julia Taudevin), a stern, Fanny Craddick/Thatcher-esque woman who is raving about the ‘good old days’ of Great Britain and the British Empire.
The set and initial costume design all point to a classic and old British stereotype, with teacups and saucers placed carefully on the table, Auntie wearing a crown-shaped brooch on her jacket, and the stiff upper lip attitude that became so prevalent during war-times.
However, as Auntie’s monologue continues, the pairing of witty and sharp writing and performance and impressive costume and SFX makeup, ensure the funny yet dark content becomes more unnerving by the second. While Auntie continues her speech, repeating outdated and racist attitudes- a satirical presentation of British history and nationalism, she has slowly been bleeding out.
The symbolism throughout A(u)ntie Empire captures the sometimes dark and self-deprecating sense of humour that is seen in the place in which it is set, as Auntie bleeds and rants, we become aware of the fact that despite the dark and colonial history of Britain, and the attitudes it birthed, there is a shift happening and hate and toxic ‘British’ values themselves are also slowly bleeding out and dying too. Whether horror is your thing or not, this film is just the right amount of funny, frightening and political to make it an interesting watch for fans of all genres, so in the spirit of both that and my own Britishness, I’ll leave you with the line Auntie leaves us with; anyone fancy a cup of tea?
Written by Larissa Hird
Eye Exam (dir. Aislinn Clarke)
When Ellen (Irene Allan) decides to take up the deal found on a leaflet for an eye exam, mildly resembling a tarot card, she can’t pass up the offer. Stylistically the short has a 1950s feel, with a nostalgic sci-fi score; however, this doesn’t detract from the building tension that ensues.
After watching the last patient leave, terrified and eager to escape, Ellen tentatively makes her way to the Optometrist’s (Richard Addison) chair. The man brandishes instruments as he speaks to his patient, finding it particularly funny when she asks what something he refers to as an ‘eye scoop’ is. As the exam goes on, stranger things begin to happen, building fear and dread without losing the fun and camp tone of the film.
Eye exam captures the anxiety of healthcare appointments and phobias while creating a great sense of unease and entertainment in the three minutes it lasts, with high production values and brilliant costume and set design.
Written by Larissa Hird
You can read more about this years Glasgow Short Film Festival here
