Latest Short Film Reviews

Javier (Coco’s Anthony Gonzalez) wants to play the trombone. Javier’s father, Eladio (Martin Morales), also wants him to play trombone. But they have different ideas of what that trombone should be: the sliding trombone of classical music which Javier is practising for an upcoming audition at UCLA, or the valve trombone of banda music which Eladio wants him to play at an upcoming party. Jorge Parra Jr.’s heartening ¡Que Suene La Banda! delivers everything you might expect from this familiar familial dynamic, doing so with such warmth and confidence that you are sure to leave the short film with a smile on your face and a spring in your step.

It is important to note that this is not a film in which a young adult must choose between their impassioned desires and their parent-mandated future, as in Dead Poets Society or even High School Musical. Javier’s struggle between his trombonic futures does not heavily feature overt external pressures; it is a crisis of self-identity. He is a boy becoming a man deeply in love with his family and culture, yet acutely conscious of their perceived social standing. To him, Eladio doesn’t have the right job and doesn’t play the right music, and Javier is determined to follow a different path. What makes the film so affecting is that nobody stands in Javier’s way but himself; he is at war with himself. As Eladio points out, there is little difference between the two instruments: “[They have] the same three valves. The same key.”

Gonzalez portrays Javier’s dilemma beautifully, allowing his insecurities to register while retaining that all-too-recognisable teenage ability to conceal them. He is supported by equally strong turns from Morales, Celina Fang (as Emily, Javier’s piano-playing duet partner and potential love interest), and, in particular, Marabina Jaimes as Javier’s mother Josefina, who exudes such powerful maternal warmth it feels like a hug through the screen.

The performances are further bolstered by strong behind-the-camera talent. Parra Jr. has a clear eye for emotive filmmaking as he patiently manoeuvres and situates the camera around his talented cast, basking them all in a sun-tinged and homely orange glow. His reverence for Michael Bryan Stein’s music is equally apparent: the score is not merely an accompaniment to the story; it is woven into the storytelling itself, becoming a character in its own right and culminating in a third-act set piece as moving as it is triumphant. The music is beautifully composed and affectionately presented, with the cast delivering impressive work, whether actually playing their respective instruments or convincingly appearing to do so. Parra Jr. clearly takes pleasure in showcasing their musical abilities, allowing the performances to become a celebration of music itself.

¡Que Suene La Banda! is exciting not just because of its narrative tension, but because of the abundance of talent on display. It is a charming, assured piece of filmmaking that understands how music can become a battleground for identity, before serving as the ultimate reconciliation. Parra Jr. emerges as a talent to watch, and his film leaves us with a lovely reminder that finding your own harmony need not mean turning your back on where you came from, but embracing it.

Koffi Jr arrives in Montreal, looking for a job in the same city that his late father had become renowned as the legendary trumpeter ‘The Elephant’. Jazz Infernal, a short-film by Will Niava, is just as sensitive as it is bombastic! In true jazz style, this film moves through both fast-tempo set pieces and tranquil lulls with an ease that showcases a mastery of pace from the filmmakers.

We open on young Koffi Jr peeking in on his Dad playing the trumpet, intercut with the view of a sombre beach at dusk. We are then snapped out of that serene location and into the high-sensory tension of an airport, with quick cuts and hectic noise, as Koffi Jr faces airport security. This simple couple of beats sets the stage for the story to come. Niava and cinematographer Harley Francis make the creative choice to depict the exterior of Montreal feeling cold with blue and green colour grading. But, when our protagonist steps into the jazz club, the frame is lit up with warm oranges wrapping Koffi in a homely light, transporting him and us back to his childhood in Ghana.

Speaking of the flashbacks, the quiet yet powerful Ghanaian sequences scattered throughout the film are a welcome change of pace from the fast-moving farce of Koffi and co’s night out. The chaotically-paced ebbs and flows of instruments in the modern day (in a fantastic soundtrack provided by Hichem Ben Khalifa) gives way to a slow and contemplative trumpet solo, reflecting the simplicity of his childhood.

Ange Eric N'Guessan, who portrays Koffi Jr, brings a subtle fish-out-of-water feel to the character that serves the story’s absurdist elements without ever making it seem unnatural. Joined by the anarchic but lovable side characters, played excellently by Alexis Belhumeur and Kalombo Kasongo, Jazz Infernal curates an excellent cast with everyone on absolute top-form.

The final shot is likely to move even the most stoic of viewers. The chaos of Montreal winds down and Koffi decides to pick up his father’s trumpet. As the camera pans down and he decides to play, those orange colours begin to leak once more into the scene, as he brings his own warmth into the world.

Initially conceptualised as a story centred on the immigrant experience, Niava’s experiences having lost his own father changed the course of the film, resulting in a profound and gentle exploration of grief that can be felt in every frame. Jazz Infernal is a singular vision, a singular instrument that cuts through the noise of the world and straight into the audience’s heart. Its only downside? That there isn’t more of it. This creative team is a force to be reckoned with, capturing the vision they set out to achieve with love.

This short animation tackles the modern issue of phone addiction. The message is conveyed through a catchy song that will no doubt stay with you for hours after the credits. I think most people can say they spend too much time on their phones, and many of us have looked around and seen people head down, eyes glued to their screens. You may have even bumped into one of these people.

The visuals for this are extremely colourful and make for great viewing. The creators have created a world of beautiful scenery with mountains, forests and rivers. They have also created some stunning scenes under the sea and beyond Earth and into space. The computer animation is crisp, and the facial expressions and movement are smooth and realistic. The animators created many textures, whether it is the disc florets in the middle of a Daisy, the stubble on the main character's chin, or the fuzzy fur on the character Phoney. Some of the main character's movements are particularly impressive, and this film was clearly made with a great deal of skill.

The director (Nigel Tierney) and co-director (Frederico Heller) clearly enjoyed animating and created a light-hearted film that tackles a serious topic. Between them, they have a vast amount of experience creating animation and delivering important messages. The audience will enjoy seeing the many characters, whether that is the purple-haired teenager, the tough guy, the hippie, the runner or the twins. The film features characters from every facet of society. The message is that anyone can be addicted. The audience will enjoy the emojis and text boxes springing up from everywhere. The combination of natural scenery and phone technology works really well. It shows you what you can miss by constantly looking at your phone.

This is basically an animated music video, and the song is definitely competing well with the animation. The songwriter brings adult humour to the film with lyrics like “ I am a big fat dickted”. This line was brought to life by the legendary actor Mel Brooks, who still has great comic timing even at 100 years old. In contrast to the humour, the lyrics also capture the serious topic of phone addiction. Lyrics such as “ A willing slave to your technology” and “the device you have in your hands is like a slot machine”. I think the mixture of humour, strong messaging and colourful animation is really powerful.

The casting is really good, particularly the main character, whom we follow on his epic journey without his phone. The singing is by no means amazing, but that’s the point; it is meant to be your average person. The voice isn’t important; the lyrics are what make it worth listening to. The singer (Jeff Marx) is also the Songwriter who has built an amazing musical career. I don’t know if some of the cast were chosen because of their links to social media and the internet, but it adds more weight to the message. Most of the addiction revolves around the content on the phone, such as social media, messaging apps and video channels.

Overall, this is an enjoyable watch that is really well put together and thoughtfully made. Hopefully it will encourage viewers to drop their phone, not in the toilet like one character did, but to leave it behind and enjoy the outside world and meet the people in it.

So let’s take the five-to-ten-minute walk without our phones.

A short comedy directed by James Skinner, written by Ben Marshall and starring Ronan Colfer, Jase Rivers and Katie Cannon.

In London, by chance, pickpocket and former prisoner, Jay (Colfer) is reunited with his estranged friend, Oz (Rivers). Oz has left his criminal days behind him and now works as a performance artist, with an event scheduled at a pub. The big day arrives, Jay attends and some thieving takes place, leading to complications.

What stands out the most in this film is Oz's performance. The artist does his one-man show by standing naked on a stage in front of a small crowd, playing a ukulele, with bits of paper attached to his body to be taken by customers so they can get their seat number. A bearded guy in a pub, no clothes on, playing music in silence, with a blank expression, while people observe him. Awkward and humorous. The script also follows Jay as he moves around the building, talking to people and having a meaningful encounter with Angel (Cannon), a young kind woman at the pub. The narrative alternates between the performance and flashbacks of Jay and Oz meeting again for the first time in ages, catching-up and discussing Oz's new activities.

This is a sort of buddy story that places equal emphasis on Oz and Jay. Oz is a reformed criminal who has chosen to pursue a career in performing arts. He pretty much steals the show due to being naked. On the other hand, recently-released-from-prison Jay remains a crook, a naive guy who also values his friendship with Oz. Cannon makes a significant impression with her supporting role as seemingly decent person.

This story explores friendship, the world of performance artists, the concepts of living a life of crime, starting over and having a passion. Two messages that it appears to be carrying is that people can change and that sometimes, people are not what they seem to be.

A comedy with adult humour and crime. A fun viewing.

Crab Cake Kid is a short film written by and starring the York comedian Rob Auton. It’s an incredibly well written and crafted film that is as funny as it is touching.

The film follows Auton as he narrates a story surrounding his first job at aged sixteen working as a chef. He recounts stories of drug taking, camaraderie and bullying which will be familiar to anyone with experience working in kitchens. The centrepiece of these stories is Auton as the Crab Cake Kid who has become a cult like figure due to his special recipe for making crab cakes.

The standout of this short film is certainly Auton himself. It’s evident he’s an established comedian with plenty of experience writing comedy and performing at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. This film is not so dissimilar from seeing one of his shows at the festival or listening to him tell a comedic story in the corner of a pub and this is due to how the short film’s narration is framed.

Director Kirill Teslia alongside writer Auton, create this film quite unconventionally. Within the first 30 seconds of the film, there is a fourth wall break as Auton narrates to the audience these stories of his kitchen experience. This creates an intimate viewing experience where it feels as though Auton is directly speaking to the viewer.

As a comedian, it’s no surprise that the comedy of this film is particularly strong. From an early scene where Auton describes cling film as ‘the ghost of tin foil’ to the revelation of the secret ingredient that’s in the crab cake, viewers will find themselves laughing at many points throughout the film.

That being said, there is also an understanding that this kitchen environment isn’t all fun and games. The 90s banter often tips over into bullying especially with the head chef (Luke McQueen) who makes 16 year old Auton clean the floor in his bare feet and gives him his first gram of weed. There is a satisfying end to the chef’s tenure at the kitchen that involves an off piece of Sea Bass which is one of the highlights of the film.

The direction and editing of the film, both done by Teslia, are areas that are definitely worthy of note. The opening scene, for example, where each item that makes up the crab cake are laid out on a metal table while an intense jazz score creates tension, is something that wouldn’t look out of place in Boiling Point or The Bear.

The only small gripe I have with this film is purely a selfish one, I would like more of it. There are moments that I feel could be expanded a little further, not necessarily for a full feature length film but perhaps a few minutes extra to the 13 minute run time. The bulk of the film’s flashbacks are spent in 1996 and it would have been nice to spend more time in 1998 where Auton is a more established chef.

Altogether, Crab Cake Kid is an incredibly humorous film that is reflective of Auton’s deadpan Yorkshire humour. It’s a familiar story while being distinctive in its directorial choices and it provides its own critique on toxic kitchen environments. Crab Cake Kid is being shown at the Aesthetica Film Festival in York and it’s well worth seeing for anyone that values comedy in film.

Mr A: Genesis is a comedic drama and follows Ayotunde “Mr A” Akinlade (Noah Olaoye), a 27-year-old English teacher and pastor navigating life between the lively chaos of a secondary school classroom and a Black-majority church in Liverpool. The narrative follows Ayo’s struggles with self-doubt and his journey to overcome it and find his purpose.

One of the most awe-inspiring aspects of Mr A: Genesis is its themes of faith and identity. Sadly, stories about young Black British-Nigerian men remain rare outside of London, so setting the film in Liverpool feels incredibly uplifting. Elevating voices and talent from underrepresented individuals outside London is so important, and the film’s sense of community helps it to feel personal in that respect. The film feels incredibly lived-in with its distinct setting, and it's refreshing to see the perspective of a young Black Scouse individual navigating his struggles with identity and self-doubt. From the opening frame to the end, the filmmaking creates unease and firmly places the audience in the central character’s point of view. It's an incredibly engaging experience, as the film seamlessly shifts from the pressure of Ayo leading his church’s 30th-anniversary service to his interactions with his students.

It's immediately effortless to become invested in Ayo’s life and sympathise with his struggles thanks to his heartwarming personality and journey to leadership. The church community and other teachers within the narrative put profound pressure on him to conform to societal norms, and his unique teaching style is awe-inspiring. Despite the initial lack of characterisation, by the film's conclusion, the audience is confronted with the personal and profound struggles Ayo has learned to overcome. That said, the brisk runtime is a detriment to the experience, as the narrative isn’t given enough breathing room to flesh out the themes of faith and identity. While the narrative presents these ideas in an engaging way, it is never given enough time to fully interrogate them.

From a technical perspective, the film is incredibly creative with its camerawork and inventive editing choices. Steven Wyn Owen serves as the film's cinematographer, and utilises a mix of wide shots and extreme close-ups when venturing into Ayo’s point-of-view. It's an incredibly evocative choice as it feels intimate and personal, allowing the viewer to become invested in his character’s arc throughout. This is accompanied by the frenetic editing that seamlessly transitions from Ayo in the midst of teaching to leading the service for his church. Ayo’s role of leadership is a primary theme throughout and executed profoundly through the film's technical prowess.

The ensemble performances are terrific throughout, with a compelling lead performance from Noah Olaoye as Mr. A. His performance exudes tenderness while balancing the comedic and dramatic tone of the script profoundly; it's a wonderful turn from Noah Olaoye that feels personal and uplifting. The supporting players, including the child performances, are also fantastic, and the chemistry between each cast member feels natural.

However, outside of Ayo’s character arc being executed to its fullest, the narrative isn't given enough time to explore the supporting characters. Sadly, the conclusion to the narrative doesn't feel entirely earned and would have benefited from a more prolonged runtime to build on the supporting characters and their role in Ayo’s growth.

Mr A: Genesis is an inspiring tale of self-doubt and having the confidence to believe in oneself. Despite its flaws, the film possesses a terrific lead performance from Noah Olaoye and an inspiring message. Mr A: Genesis is a flawed yet endearing piece of indie filmmaking.

An low-budget yet ambitious short film released in 2023, Blood & Lust was directed by Patrick Eichner and written by George Firewalker Carlson. The plot synopsis provided for this 37-minute short reads “Gus fills the empty void in his soul with sex, drugs and gambling, he's spiralling out of control. His tendency for self-destruction becomes a question for survival when one faithful night he's faced with unspeakable terror and is stalked by a bevy of beautiful creatures of the night.” Immediately that sounds pretty bizarre, but it looks very standard when compared to the film itself – viewers may still be surprised by where it ends up going despite the ridiculous setup.

When looking at films that are this low-budget and independent, it’s important to acknowledge and praise what the filmmakers are able to do with limited resources, even if the film has the shortcomings that are often seen in similar pieces of work. With this in mind, Blood & Lust has some genuinely admirable elements. It’s difficult to deny that it feels like the people involved are actually trying, and that the filmmakers have some interesting ideas that are difficult to fully expand on in a film that is so short. Most of the actors do their best, there are some interesting moments visually, and the costumes and sets are solid where it matters. The film eventually becomes so outlandish that it’s difficult not to respect it. It does feel like Eichner was doing his best to bring a story he was passionate about to life. However, it is also true that Blood & Lust does is littered with those previously mentioned shortcomings. There are editing issues, the sound mixing is rough with some dialogue that is hard to hear, and there’s a general feeling that the film can’t cover or expand upon everything that it wants to with such a short length.

It’s not particularly easy to make sense of everything here. It feels like the film may be trying to make a point about addiction, and the consequences of self-destructive behaviour (the film’s tagline “how far is too far?” further suggests this). The problem is that the film itself isn’t compelling. The writing isn’t strong enough, the characters are basic, and it does unfortunately feel too limited. As a result, it’s difficult to care about its themes and ideas when you don’t care about the rest of it.

Blood & Lust isn’t a complete failure, and again, it feels like the people involved were doing their best with what they had – which is always admirable. I wouldn’t call it a complete waste of thirty-seven minutes. But it’s undeniably flawed and mainly just leaves you wondering what these filmmakers could do with a bigger budget, a stronger script, better actors, and a longer runtime.

FREUD (2025) is a German student-led project written and directed by Ruben Leander Bühring. The psychological drama follows Maya, a young girl struggling with her mental health; she is seen discussing ‘the voices’ in a therapy session. This storyline intercuts with another: a court hearing in which charges are brought against a therapy provider. It is revealed that the therapy provider (FREUD) is an AI database that predicted from Maya’s behaviour that she may commit a crime. In an attempt to protect others, the company gives Maya a fatal pill, killing her almost immediately.

The predictions of the machine have severe consequences and can prompt the audience to reflect on just how much responsibility AI will have in the future. The idea behind this film was unique and interesting. It definitely gets you thinking about how the protection of others can sacrifice another. It is a complex play on very engaging questions such as: can we trust machines to play God?

The links between the two narratives gain more and more clarity throughout, with the court scenes almost providing narration for the entirety of the film. This helps make the tale much easier to understand for viewers.

Without underestimating the time and budget restrictions of a student short film, I would have liked more backstory for the main character, Maya (played by Eva Marlen Hirschburger). Her demise was quick and not emotional at all because the audience did not get to know her. Small details to make her seem more human (like seeing her in more positive moments or seeing the people who care about her) would have increased empathy after her death and promoted more connection from viewers to the story.

I also think adding more human elements would have created an even deeper battle between society and machines (emotion vs analytics).

The stark contrast between the red and black colours used on the title card and credits was very aesthetically pleasing and fitting for the narrative of the film. I also appreciated the fisheye effect and thought this was used perfectly. The music worked in unison with the ebbs and flows of the tension curated in the project. I also appreciated the sound effect timed with protagonist Maya opening her eyes; the small details added so much atmosphere.

Overall, the production value was high, with clean and professional cinematography, beautiful shot compositions and an array of confident actors. The narrative touched on a multitude of themes and asked captivating questions of the audience. I would have loved to have seen the conclusion of the court and I think this idea has the potential to be reworked to fit a longer format.

Voyeurism in the modern age is a lot easier. Personal devices have made it incredibly easy to spy on people. Short film The Idea revisits classic voyeurism, however, exploring the intrusive nature of a couple spying on their younger neighbours and how this impacts their own mental states.

Directed by Henry Chastain and adapted from the original short story by Raymond Carver, The Idea feels immediately perverse and uncomfortable for the viewer. Our couple (played brilliantly by Melora Walters and Dar Dixon) sit by their window in the dark and watch as a man across the street peers in and watches a woman get undressed. Voyeurs watching a voyeur, then, the movie moves on to display how angered Walters’ character is at the woman across the street. She seems completely put out by the neighbour and threatens to confront her in public.

What’s immediately arresting about The Idea is the routine nature of what’s going on. The fact that this couple can regularly sit by their window and observe their (younger) neighbours going about an odd and intimate habit stirs something disquieting for the viewer. The layered voyeurism seems frankly bizarre when watched as a dramatised short film, and yet this type of behaviour is commonplace, nay, encouraged, on social media.

Seeing the impact on the central character also makes for uneasy viewing. She seems a little off-kilter, and the one-sided hatred that festers within her towards her unsuspecting neighbour is, again, an incredibly powerful parallel of our modern tendencies.

The film version of the story is set in the 1990s (a wonderful pre-smartphone era), and the mise-en-scene is beautifully rendered to immerse the audience in the time period. The couple’s home feels like every sitcom from that era you watched, and yet the tense atmosphere created feels far more akin to a psychological thriller. This wonderful juxtaposition creates a lasting impression on viewers.

Melora Walters (whose credits include Boogie Nights, Magnolia, and Dead Poets Society) delivers a powerhouse performance and does the majority of the heavy lifting for The Idea. Her character experiences emotional migration from mild curiosity through to full-on paranoia in a short space of time, and Walters executes this beautifully in her performance. Dar Dixon also provides a nice counterbalance to the proceedings, offering an aloof co-conspirator whose grasp on his wife’s mental state is tenuous.

The third act of the film suffers from a pacing issue, and the story doesn’t really serve up the gut-punch the audience may think is coming. Whilst the connotations linger, it’s a shame something more cinematic and exciting isn’t brought in. That being said, The Idea focuses more on the internal struggle for our characters and how their viewing habits have shaped their emotional states.

We step into Pete’s (Edmund C. Short) tumultuous world. After the loss of his mother and infidelity from his fiancé, we follow Pete’s isolation and wallowing. Until a figment of his imagination begins to spark joy and meaning once again.

Pete is trying to find his feet amidst the chaos in his life. We find out about his mother’s passing as he rifles through boxes he is still yet to unpack. After watching through his mother’s Audrey Hepburn film collection, he wakes up to find Audrey (Kendal Brenneman) in his house. Understandably feeling confused and no longer sane, Pete tries to get a grip on his life.

The film touches on a variety of emotions: grief, self-pity, and the idea of having your life on hold. Audrey acts as Pete’s escapism from the real world, helping to unpack his feelings and life moving forward. When in actual fact, it’s Pete trying to help himself. It’s a relatable experience for most in terms of feeling stuck and being uncertain of the future. It’s done in a palatable way, verging on a romantic comedy.

Both of the leads bounce off each other in a playful, comedic way. The standout performance is by Kendal Brenneman; it feels as though she’s studied Audrey’s mannerisms, vocal inflections, and little quirks. That, paired with the extensive wardrobe and accurate hair and makeup, make for a believable portrayal. For such a big icon, Kendal takes on this beast with grace and elegance.

The standout aspects of the film come from the artistic direction and aesthetics. Set against a stunning Paris backdrop as the pair wander around, everything feels clean, refreshing, and mirrors Pete’s new lease on life since Audrey appears. The costume department really nails the signature looks of Audrey and throws us right back in time. Any old-school cinema lover will love the look and feel of this short.

Time is what Pete is so hung up about, living in feelings of the past, and whilst nostalgia is fun to relive, it’s a lesson in trying to progress towards a future. It’s evident in a scene between them both where Audrey states ‘if you don’t eat your ice cream, it’s going to melt away’ whilst she means it literally and in a comedic sense; Pete sees it as a metaphor for his own life. A playful quote that we can all take into our own lives.

Overall, the short captures the melancholy and sentimentality of time passing by. With a short run time, it doesn’t manage to grip the audience any deeper than surface level. That being said, it works as a short, fun-filled comedy and is an entertaining watch. Just for the costume changes alone, the visual elements are striking and fulfil each scene.

Dating Audrey has picked up 19 wins and 14 nominations, including Best Comedy at the 27th Annual FirstGlance Film Festival in Philadelphia.