Latest Short Film Reviews

A tale of relationship revenge as two friends, Aimee (Fiona Button) and Zara (Leila Farzad), plot the downfall of the latter’s cheating husband by using his currently unlocked Twitter account (we all still refuse to call it X). 

Written and directed by Oli Beale, Good Luck Fuck Face taps into some powerful, contemporary themes and delivers them beautifully using a simple setup and relatable characters. 

Zara’s desire to besmirch the good name of her cheating husband, who happens to have a LOT of followers, draws us in as viewers. We become just as entangled in her plot as friend Aimee does, who attempts to suggest numerous ways the pair could bring him down. From dubious comments about a royal to attacking space heroes, nothing is off the table in their plotting and scheming. 

Beale brilliantly combines the poignant scene of two friends supporting each other through a break-up with a darkly comedic ambush on the cancel culture state we are living through. Whilst it’s clear that Zara is definitely processing the end of her marriage, she often rebukes Aimee for her outlandish suggestions with excellent comic timing. It becomes evident that the two friends are also experiencing a self-examination of their own relationship, regularly not being on the same page about how to handle this situation and even learning new things about each other along the journey. 

When filmmakers and storytellers are able to tap into something so relatable and surprising, it is always commendable. With Good Luck Fuck Face, there are numerous moments where we find ourselves in an ethical dilemma. This is expertly handled here by Oli Beale, reserving judgement and playing both sides of the argument to create an immersive space for the audience to squirm in. Whether you revel in revenge or seek peaceful closure, you need to experience this movie. 

As a piece of short filmmaking, some excellent decisions were made. Firstly, investing in such excellent performers who hold up this piece with deft skill. In less talented hands, the back-and-forth dialogue could have been lost to amateurishness, but not with Fiona Button and Leila Farzad delivering a rousing and engaging onscreen duo act that is engrossing throughout. Secondly, a one-location shot and minimal distractions keep things tight, professional, and fluid, allowing the nature of the storytelling to dominate. 

Other than wanting more (which, as always, is a good thing), this is perfect short filmmaking. Plaudits to the music in Good Luck Fuck Face, in particular the track playing over the end credits which was a fantastic way to conclude after that ending. 

Witness is an outstanding piece of drama. This thoughtfully constructed story revolves around a Muslim community, specifically an imam called Mustafa who must face some social complexities when a trans man acts as the titular witness to a Nikah – the Muslim wedding ceremony. Things get quite distressing when we’re confronted with the prejudice and transphobia present in religion. This can be identified in the protagonist of the film. The short understandably focuses in on the conflict between staunch tradition and modern realities, but it’s at its most interesting when we get an insight into the tragedy of a trans person's spiritual identity resulting in discriminatory action; the injustice of a system, meant as a haven of the soul, making an innocent individual feel like an outsider.

Even putting aside this movie’s political importance (although why would you), what the viewer is party to here is utterly immaculate on a visual and auditory level. This might be the best-looking, most flawlessly lit short film release I’ve seen all year. It’s an unbelievable achievement for director of photography Nausheen Dadabhoy who manages to craft the light so delicately as to both provide an impression of realism, and have the image be almost overwhelmingly pristine. Such an immaculate balance in the imagery is almost matched by the clarity and immersion present in the audio. The sound and its crisp quality, in a sense, feels too much – as if the emotional damage of words said pierce the audience equally. But we also have a rather lovely score to the soundtrack, matching, through its subtle melodious sensibility, the gentle yet fluctuating moments on show.

All the formal elements discussed are enhanced by a terrifically devoted cast of performers. The emotions on show are as raw as the subject-matter; and yet, we never veer into over-playing melodrama. To do so would fundamentally disrupt the reality and significance of the story being told. Thus, the director and actors work together to craft performers of an incredibly grounded, three-dimensional nature. One would go so far as to say that these are very much award-worthy pieces of acting. The film, which has been selected for this year’s Raindance film festival, will surely have great success within a multitude of departments when it comes to critical appreciation.

Beautifully observed from beginning to end, Witness is a deep and prescient work. This critic wholeheartedly recommends the film due to its elevated craft and moving aspirations. The film’s ending ultimately gives us a great amount to ponder on. With an ambiguous ending such as Witness builds to, it’s up to the audience to consider whether good or ill will be done; and what exactly, if we were placed in the exact same position, we would do. I’m sure we’d all like to think that we would be breaking down all these damaging barriers of traditional thought and prejudicial proceedings, but there’s something more grounded, and more sober in the fact that it’s not as simple as all that. Hopefully this man can make a positive change, but what the ending evokes is that that’s just the first step in a long and arduous battle with the powers that be.

A woman has to take stock of her life and admit to herself that she has a problem with alcohol before her life completely falls apart around her, or worse.

Carolyn (Sanders) has a drinking problem. Unfortunately, she’s not ready to admit it to herself yet, even though her husband, Richard (Brenneman) has moved out and taken their son, Axton (Ilian) with him. When we first meet her, Carolyn is looking after Axton for the one hour a week she has been allowed due to her circumstances. Even now she is zoning out and paying little attention to her son, which is probably why he seems to be very immature in his manner and play. Looking like he’s somewhere around eleven, but being played as though he is more like six years old, Axton is a four-and-a-half-foot tall baby who likes to whoosh monster trucks through the air pretending that they’re aeroplanes. Carolyn does her best to re-engage when pressured to do so by her son, but otherwise her mind is always on the demon drink.

When Richard turns up to take Axton home with him again, Carolyn is left alone with her own thoughts and her own feelings about herself. Initially believing that she is being wronged and misrepresented at every turn, she takes a drink in defiance and in an attempt to calm her nerves. Naturally, one thing leads to another and soon enough Carolyn is drinking at all hours of the day, doing all she can to numb her pain, and trying her best to keep the voices at bay. Unfortunately, once the voices take hold properly, Carolyn finds herself on the roof of her building, ready to do something drastic to stop it all from becoming too much to bear.

All throughout Standing On The Edge, we are very aware that what we are watching is a very amateur production. Writer and director, Garrett Brenneman uses economy in all of areas of his film to give us this family’s story, seriously reducing the cinematic feel needed for it to be relayed on screen. The acting from all leads is poor, almost to the point of looking unrehearsed, and it seems difficult for Mike Brenneman as the father to get his words out sometimes. When this happens, it would be down to the director to stop, reset, and try again, but (Garrett) Brenneman doesn’t bother with that and just leaves the fumblings and mumblings in his scenes.

Sadly, Lisa Michelle Sanders doesn’t fare any better as the mother, vaguely grasping at the emotions she is supposed to be portraying, whilst going wildly over the top at turns, risking the whole production being turned into a farce. She isn’t helped by the grand overtures of DeWayne Adcock’s orchestral score, which blast out over her tears and grief as she gurns herself into submission, nor by the rest of the sound design which doesn’t always fit in with the characters or the images.

It is commendable that Brenneman has decided to take on such a difficult theme for his story, and it’s obvious he has some real investment in getting the message out about the ‘behind closed doors’ realities of alcoholism. Showing the need for Carolyn to come to terms with her own problems, to then accept the help that is being offered by those who care for her, is a noble and forceful reason for creating a film like Standing On The Edge. Unfortunately, the shoehorned religious element, complete with misspelled bible quotation, really feels forced at the end and only serves to alienate some viewers who will undoubtedly feel as though they’re being preached to. Alcoholism is a real-world problem, not one that has to be attributed to the devil.

In the end, Standing On The Edge falls short at every hurdle in terms of its production, and lands as a damp squib of a story when it could so easily have had a depth of emotion and understanding of character just from the scenario it portrays. Rather than being a professional project, Standing On The Edge is more of a family affair, looking like it was created for an amateur showing in the local church group, meaning that the issues it wants to tackle are not entirely represented in the way they should be.

Jack McLoughlin’s acidic new comedy Q&A is a force to be reckoned with. Shot with a multi-camera setup to replicate the scenario of, perhaps, a live broadcast, the audience bears witness to a question-and-answer presentation with a celebrated actor which will soon take a disastrous turn. When one aspiring actor wishes to ask the famous attendee a question, this aspiring performer reveals – rather dramatically, though slightly predictably based on the size of his coat – a bomb strapped to his chest. He proceeds to break down and confront the casting director about his lack of success in the industry despite seemingly empty promises. It’s tense stuff, well observed and, through its ridiculousness, occasionally quite amusing in a perceptive, uncomfortable sort of way. But the piece is made not only watchable but engaging through its execution (over its base concept). It may have a provocative screenplay, but the film’s ideas and conflicts are held together completely by the superb performances across the board.

To its strength, this very much feels like a piece of drama made through collaboration, despite only having a single writer/director credit. I commend director McLoughlin on making it feel as creatively multifaceted as it does, since they clearly constructed a space in which each and every performer can bring a lot of individuality to the dialogue and acting styles. And yet it all remains utterly consistent and never goes off the rails. Every individual featured in this film knows precisely where to pitch their performance at – how big or small to go; how absurd or grounded. Much of the joy of this film comes from focusing in on the nuances of their behaviour since there's strong realism to it all. Quite an unusual quality for a short film.

The fact that Q&A is shot as if simply to document this live event really lends this one extended scene a unique feel. One advantage of this is that we get to view the actors’ unbroken interactions. It’s much more like theatre in that manner – reliant less on aesthetic or cinematic devices and more on our engagement with character. However, if you don’t find this scenario engaging, one can imagine critics going to blame the form for any shortcomings. After all, without conventional visual storytelling, we’re not given emotional cues by the camerawork. Decidedly, this is meant to be a much more Brechtian exercise – and even if it is a comedy of sorts, it’s a smartly objective one.

Q&A strikes the perfect balance of tone. Were the tone to be completely outrageous and satirical in its comedy, the audience wouldn’t buy into the threat, intensity and quite scathing indictment of both the entertainment industry as well as the fragile, shallow egos of many who attempt to break into it. And on the flip side, if the piece were completely self-serious, audiences may risk finding the narrative to be more unpleasant than it is conceptually interesting. Overall, you can expect both enrapturing drama and subtle humour from this well-observed deconstruction of stardom.

The writer-director Emrah Caso Ljucic enjoys exploring mysteries of the human mind. Ljucic intermingled thrill, perceptions, and drama to create cinema that showcases the complexities of the human experience that resonate long after the credits roll leaving the audience inspired intrigued and eager asking for more. Deniz Sodal Gulsen, Naja Julie Jensen, and Tore Dokkedahl understand Ljucic’s vision delve into psychological thrillers blurring the lines between reality and Illusion.

The plot of the short film revolves around a celebrity’s captivating and deadly beautiful date that escalates into a surreal nightmare. As tensions mount shocking revelations push the boundaries of sanity leaving the audience gripped on the edge of their seats yearning for answers.

A Deadly Beautiful Date utilises various cartoons along with the opening credits and music to establish the subject matter of the movie engaging with the film’s content from the very beginning. The long shot of the male protagonist sitting alone in a lavish restaurant in a bad mood intensifies the narrative slowly picking up pace. The set design, the black, golden, and blue colour pallet exude elegance, and luxury but with hidden coldness/sadness, dim lighting, camera angles, sound, music, dialogues, costume, hair, makeup, and props complementing the storyline to depict authenticity, drama suspense, and emotions on a profound level.

In terms of performance, Deniz Sodal Gulsen plays the male protagonist Deniz who likes to show off his luxurious life but he is running out of emotions in his day-to-day life. He is waiting for his date to arrive completely unaware of what the future holds for him. The young actor effortlessly portrays a dominant demeaner in major part of A Deadly Beautiful Date but is gradually forced to change his behaviour due to the situation that gets worse.

Naja Julie Jensen plays the role of Mia Sofia a well-educated strong and charming lady who comes to meet Deniz challenging his thought process and standing against everything that she thinks is wrong. Jensen depicts all the qualities that inspire people and they can learn incorporating them in their lives.

Phillip Bogh plays Dr. Nullermann who agrees to help the owner/ the waiter of the restaurant with an illegal activity for the sake of money. Bogh with his acting skills, body language, voice modulation, makeup, and facial expressions immerses himself completely in the negativity of the character arc.

A Deadly Beautiful Date talks about the unconditional love of parents becoming our shield when something unforeseen happens that can turn life-threatening as well. The short film reiterates that society has given certain gender roles that’s need to be broken or altered to let people move on with the dynamic nature of time. The dramatic piece warns the viewers that choosing the illegal/wrong path may seem to lure them to take an easy solution for their problem but actually it comes with long term sadness, suffering for themselves and others around them. The creative piece also highlights that value people, relationships, and happy times spend it with the right mind-set because the time that goes by doesn’t come again and one is left with only regrets.

Out Stretched Hands imagines a sadly common altercation, in the United States. Its soft immersion into the normal night of two friends leads to a painful tragedy, which will haunt viewers long after its short runtime ends.

Caleb (Devon Grevious) and Junior (Quan Moore) and old friends embarking on a normal night. Both have ties to the local drug trade, but their conversations revolve around family, friends, hopes and dreams. They notice a car following them, and prepare for a confrontation with rivals. But when it is revealed that it is a police officer (Conor Lucey), both understand that a different threat now exists.

The entanglement of police violence and racism in the US is a societal blight. So often it is the innocent actions or pleads from victims that become rallying cries – ‘he can’t breath’ in the aftermath of George Floyd’s murder or ‘Hands up, don’t shoot’ in Michael Brown’s. ‘Out Stretched Hands’ echoes such phrases, as a demonstration of how police bigotry is an inherent cause of such events. Caleb and Junior are not portrayed in this film as squeaky-clean, but their efforts to comply and negate threat are met in response with fear, anger and suspicion – leading to an avoidable and intentional tragedy.

Tayvon Bradford’s script comes with a hard edge. Caleb and Junior’s bond is established quickly and convincingly through their vulgar banter. The effortless injection of their personal lives within the dialogue quickly details their background and the complexities of their relationship, such as Caleb’s admiration for Junior’s sister and each’s opinion on whether the risks that come with their lifestyle are worthwhile.

Similarly authentic are Nate Reynolds’ direction and Chris Rivera’s cinematography, which immerse the audience in dark and foreboding city streets, in which the pair’s car is the only source of light. The red lights of the cop car that illuminate the vehicles interior are the first signs of warning, and Caleb’s decision to leave the car is what proves to be a sadly fateful one.

Grevious and Moore demonstrate a playful bond that gives room for moments of both drama and comedy in the film’s opening. They each bring their own shade of cool, both able to give and take jokes at their expense, but touch on deeper questions about their characters’ lives. It quickly builds their profiles and relates the pair to the viewer. This is of course essential to deliver the blow of the finale, in which an interaction with a police officer escalates to devastating results. The tension in this scene in built well, and viewers will be shaken by the outcome. If there is one major mark against the film, it is in the flat response of Moore’s character to the officer’s actions – which falls short of the emotional stakes and pulls the audience out of the immersion at the worst possible time.

Out Stretched Hands is powerful short that asks familiar questions of its viewers. Its power comes from its protagonist's imperfections – by building real people with real lives it counters any narratives that the reactive and violent actions of people are justifiable.

Director Christopher Hammond, along with writer Thomas Barnes blends the gangster theme and comedy genre to convey many lessons in the screenplay thereby increasing the degree of audience engagement with the content. Lewis Wallace, Jack Harris, and Thomas Barnes understand Hammond’s vision and add intricate details in their performance to build realism and relatability transcending the written material onto the screen.

The plot of Forget About It revolves around how films influence the way we live our lives, For Jake and Steve it takes on a whole new meaning. One evening whilst watching a mobster classic Steve takes on the persona of an Italian mobster, causing Jake to slowly unravel, leading to the demise of this odd couple.

Forget About It opens with a voice-over of a movie playing on the television followed by a long shot of a couple sitting on the couch having a casual conversation to establish the subject matter picking up the pace as the narrative goes ahead. The set design, black, white, and dark blue colour pallet, lighting, camera angles, music, sound, dialogues, costume, hair, makeup, and props are kept natural complementing the storyline to provide depth.

In terms of performance, Lewis Wallace plays Steve a software engineer from Essex who turns into a gangster under the influence of a movie he watched last. Wallace effortlessly switches between Steve as well as the Italian mob. The actor adopts different body language, Voice modulation, style of dialogue delivery, facial expression, and eyes for each of them.

Jake Harris plays Jake who is a more delicate at-heart, caregiver and wants to get Steve out of the bandit act. Jake is an emotional anchor in the relationship. Jake effectively balances the emotions and logic always thinking of the betterment of his partner. Harris with his acting skills also steps back to support Wallace and let him shine in certain scenes elevating the story creating an emotional connection with the viewers.

Thomas Barnes plays the role of Norbert Not Niro who is Steve’s partner in crime when he becomes an Italian mobster. Barnes takes on dual responsibility for Forget About It as a writer along with acting. Barnes’s writing assisted with the comic element of both Steve and Jake so that the audience does not lose interest in the film and stays gripped to the content all through the running time of fifteen minutes.

Forget About It warns us that extreme exposure to anything can prove detrimental to the mental as well as physical health of people. The short film reiterates that watching something on television or in the cinema should have lessons that positively impact one’s life rather than having the opposite effect. Forget About It subtly touches upon the unpredictable nature of life and therefore the need to value the important relationships that one starts taking for granted in the long run.

As an ardent viewer, I would like to appreciate the makers for providing facts just before rolling in the credits so that the audience can completely understand the topic interpret it as per their perception.

The Tale of Kso-Wi 2 mixes teenage drama, martial arts and anime sentimentality to produce a flawed but passionate sequel that continues Joshua Kowi’s love letter to Japanese culture. This student film is packed with heart and manages to communicate a definitive style despite plentiful technical hiccups.

Following the defeat of Akuto, Kso-Wi (Kowi) settles into life at a new Ninja Arts Academy designed to train the next generation of martial artists. Wrestling with his feelings for Mai’Man (Jon Cornwell) and trying to abide by the rules of Principal Sensei (Jamelia Fulton), any chance of a normal upbringing is threatened by new student Diamant (Matthew Duck), who comes into possession of a form of dark magic.

Student films are for nothing if not experimentation and passion. Both exude from The Tale of Kso-Wi 2. Viewers without any familiarity with anime stylings are likely to be left baffled – but this live-action homage works as a loving parody of the tropes usually seen in Japanese animation. The cast are clearly loving the repeating musical interludes wherein characters lay bare their emotional baggage and exposition is dumped shamelessly. Joshua Kowi stands out in these sequences. Clearly the film’s biggest personality, his Kso-Wi is missed when not on-screen (particularly in the second act) thanks to his willingness to throw himself entirely into the ridiculousness of the film’s storytelling. Matthew Duck is similarly a joy as the villainous Diamant, his sinister cartoonishness missing only a moustache to twirl.

These sequences allow for some of the funnier moments in the film as the cast break out into song, but the writing results in great humour too. The name ‘Mai’Man’ is mined for as many laughs as can be extracted, and Jon Cornwell demonstrates his physical comedy chops in some of the fight sequences. The teen drama wouldn’t look out of place in a more traditional high-school comedy, though it taking place with samurai swords and headbands galore adds a splash of colour that is welcome.

It's natural that flaws will be present in an amateur production. The sound levels are off in many scenes making some of the dialogue difficult to hear. Fight sequences are poorly edited (perhaps intentionally if going for authentic old-school Japanese style though, it must be said…), and anyone without at least an appreciation (if not an outright love) for anime or Japanese culture more widely will quickly become tired of the eccentricity and musical breaks.

The Tale of Kso-Wi 2 is clearly made for its cast to enjoy more than anything, and their passion for their idea justifies this purpose. Out of this context it is at times funny, at times baffling, at times tiresome. But really it deserves credit as an overall production and for working as a loving parody of its creator’s shared passion. It speaks of a promising set of filmmakers who understand the mechanics of the screen, and who will thrive with a bigger budget to play with.

As quiet and reflective in its form as it is audacious in its ideas, VIVA tells the story of an old couple who spend one more night with their closest family. That is before they voluntarily end their own lives under the strange, inevitably troublesome (in political terms) service provided to them by the government in this fictional world. Writer, director and editor Marie Clare Cushinan knows how to tell an emotionally complex story. You could say that the magic trick of this screenplay is that – despite the socially provocative/reflective nature of the abstract concept – the real priority of the script is building these realistic personas. We’re endeared, entertained, and deeply fascinated by the personable conversation taking place that the more experimental idea at the centre almost goes unnoticed, to its credit. The viewer can very easily accept this plot when the people feel so genuine, which brings us to our actors...

We are very seldom blessed with a short film as impeccably performed as VIVA. Every single actor is putting in incredible work, lending the scenario’s ‘dystopic’ setup an emotionally grounded quality. As critics, one often has to look past acting in low-budget filmmaking. Since acting is a challenging practice, you don’t expect most short films to feature particularly versed performers; and yet, we are in awe of the ensemble in this piece. It is, quite frankly, mind-blowing to see such a soundly cast picture wherein everyone remains appropriately restrained in terms of emotional craft and physicality. Audiences will no doubt be moved by a multitude of tender moments, the potency of which can, in part, be attributed to the immensely talented – and shrewdly employed – cast-members. It’s a rare and special thing to behold.

Allow us to touch on the technical. VIVA is certainly a professional looking movie, the most impressive and precisely accomplished aspect of which is the lighting. There’s a slick use of light balance in the spaces on show, achieving the marvel of having these pretty setups feel naturalistic or motivated. The sound track mostly matches this level of virtuosity, but there’s the occasional inadvertent crackle which almost feels more jarring considering how clean the recording proves to be – much of this can’t be avoided and remains strong work. One thing that stood out to this critic, however, was the film’s editorial construction. This is a brilliantly cut film, especially in dialogue sequences and the apt use of psychologically motivated flashbacks. But there is one sequence, at the beginning of the short film, which one could argue requires a steadier approach. I can’t help but feel that the opening, consisting of the couple looking wistfully out to sea, should have been covered in just one or two extended shots that allow us to settle in the environment and characters. The relatively quick cutting simply doesn’t suit the moment. Despite this opening, the editing is very much industry-standard; practically going unnoticed during the bulk of the picture.

VIVA is an incredibly affecting portrait of preemptive mourning which paints a detailed, nuanced picture of individuals who know that they’re approaching their final moments. It’s a sharply directed, flawlessly performed drama which manages to subtly explore some deep social ideas.

The writer-director James Ormrod has drawn inspiration from his real-life experiences of working hard thriving each day every day to come up with this idea of incorporating it as a movie. Andrew Johnston, Ryan Lock, and David Rees along with the supporting cast combine their comic timing to enhance the subject matter and increase the degree of audience engagement with the film’s content.

The plot of Three Main Men revolves around three actors all desperate to make a mark in the industry, looking for their first professional role.

Three Main Men opens with a combination of a long shot followed by a mid-shot of Ryan going through the details of an audition, while Andy and Dave are playing various games that help them boost skills that can assist the duo to hopefully crack the opportunities that come their way. The set design, black and white colour pallet, natural lighting, camera angles, dialogues, costume, hair, makeup, and props complement the storyline thus maintaining the continuity to ensure the element of realism and relatability.

In terms of performance, Andrew Johnston plays Andy who wants to learn skills to boost his acting to taste success by putting in the hard work but also knows the value of friendships and therefore stands with them in times of need. Johnston showcases a range of emotions as well as reactions to different situations through his body language, voice modulation, style of dialogue delivery, facial expressions, and eyes.

Ryan Lock plays Ryan who is trying to overcome a small mishap that occurred years ago but gets reminded of every time he auditions for a new role. Lock with his performance makes the character arc realistic and relatable for the audience.

David Rees plays the role of Dave who follows a different approach of getting into the industry through an agent because he comes in with experience. Rees has fantastic comic timing to add humour in certain serious scenes without losing the actual gist of the same.

Julia Nelson plays Mabel a tiny part of the team taking auditions for aspiring actors assisting them to take initial steps in direction of a bigger dream. The actress has limited screen space but manages to make a mark in the storyline by adding the drama along with spot -on comic timing in her dialogue delivery and voice modulation.

The Three Main Men talks about prioritising friendship above internal competition standing up for each other in times of need. The short film reiterates that one should concentrate on the present instead of remembering what happened in the past and ruining the chances of success in the present moment. The dramatic piece tells us to celebrate even the small achievements. It motivates people to keep working hard. The creative piece highlights that unity is the key to thriving together in the journey towards the common goal, taking care of happiness therefore mental health is less likely to be affected. The dramatic piece provides viewers a reality check regarding the workings of the film/television industry and theatre making them realise that talent is only the starting point.