Latest Short Film Reviews
On this page you will find the most recent short film reviews written by the UK Film Review critic. If you are looking for a particular short film review, you can use the search function at the top of the website. The vast majority of short film reviews we write are for films that have been submitted to us by independent filmmakers themselves. So if you have a short film you would like UK Film Review to review, visit the Submit Your Film page.

Lovely To Meet You
Lovely To Meet You is Darwin Reina’s horror short that uses the manipulative tactics of pickup artists as a driver for a deceptive story filled with graphic violence and brutality. It’s a modern cautionary tale that shows you can’t always trust people you meet late at night, whose intentions may not be what they seem.
Michael (Alessandro Fiorucci) is prowling the dingy bars of Barcelona to find himself a plaything to bring home for the night. He focuses on Caroline (Carmen Hoyos), and turns on the charm – weaving his way through an increasingly passionate conversation whilst dismissively ordering drinks from barmaid Maria (Ariadna Martin Esteve). But Caroline’s presence in the bar is not one of chance, and Michael is not the only one hunting in the city that night…
Darwin Reina’s Lovely To Meet You is a horror short set in the dating world that gets straight to the gory stuff whilst offering a thought-provoking look at the uncertainties that come in hookup culture. It eschews a traditional narrative and framing for its central characters, twisting the expected roles for man and woman when it comes to random encounters and showing that risk is inherent when heading out alone to meet strangers. Whilst a conspiracy twist may not be a regular risk for most people, it is one that the directors and writers have fun with and use to demonstrate a darkness in human nature that can exist on both sides of an encounter.
The film’s lower budget betrays it in moments. Blood effects do not convince and take away from viewer immersion, which is a shame as the film revels in its gore. Horror enthusiasts will feel a little undersold on the grisliness, which does not live up to its set-up in the bar scenes. Other action sequences similarly fail to really capture the intensity of the situations they take place in – such as a moment in which characters break down a door which looks fake and rehearsed. The bar scenes themselves are the production highlight, and where the director is able to build tension between the cast.
Whilst the themes around risk purvey throughout the story, Reina never really coalesces them to focus on an overall statement or message. Instead, the final result is a mild torture fantasy with an unexpected twist, but one that doesn’t really justify its own build up. There are interesting elements here, but viewers will come away without anything that really stands out – outside of Alessandro Fiorucci’s brilliantly creepy performance and a twist that offsets the audience.

Tabby Daly
Tabby Daly is set against the backdrop of rural Ireland in 1847, as the potato blight tears through a community. A charitable woman, being the titular character Tabby Daly (Andrea Kelly), helps young boys emigrate in search of a greater life. However, as doubts begin to surface within the community, questions arise about her true intentions.
One of the most mesmerising aspects of the piece is the fantastic production value throughout, as it is an impactful portrait of rural Ireland during the 1800s, making the experience feel lived-in and true to its time period. The boxed-in 4:3 aspect ratio is another commendable formal decision that pays off wonderfully within the rural community at the height of the famine. David Christopher Lynch’s cinematography is striking, as the piece consists of gorgeous drone photography that gives the viewer a sense of the beautiful landscapes of Ireland, along with the shift to extreme close-ups of each character. These close-ups are impactful thanks to the intimacy in each interaction between characters, making the experience more visceral throughout. The film primarily relies on low-key lighting, achieved with candles, which is an admirable choice given its rural setting. Conor Kilkelly, serving as the film's composer, delivers an evocative musical score that creates a sense of awe and wonder between dialogue-heavy sequences and anchors the quieter aspects of the material.
The piece is an audacious portrayal of a woman during this time period helping younger boys emigrate with a fully realised characterisation for the titular character that's both shocking and endearing to witness throughout. Both central performances from Andrea Kelly in her portrayal of the titular character and Declan Curran in his portrayal of Father Winters are the centrepiece within the narrative, as their dialogue is enriching and deeply provocative throughout. Each performance displays a sense of warmth and urgency during the struggles of the potato blight ravaging through the community, and it's utterly gripping to watch. Andrea Kelly, in particular, is the standout of the cast, as her actions are widely unpredictable, and this pays off heavily in its final moments, as the piece takes a shocking tonal shift. The piece tackles incredibly potent themes such as the rise of the Great Famine, a time in Ireland of mass starvation and disease, and themes of religion.
While the piece takes a meandering approach in its pacing, this gives the audience enough time to connect with each character despite the film's incredibly tight runtime. The sluggish pacing also allows for the jarring tonal redirect to feel more natural, thanks to the prolonged build-up, as it explores the intentions behind the titular character's ideal motivation within the community. The brevity of the piece’s exploration of the subject matter makes the overall viewing experience worthwhile and rewarding. Whilst the piece would perhaps not have enough material to sustain a longer runtime, it certainly leaves the viewer wanting more, which is a testament to directors John Doherty and Conor Kilkelly's sheer attention to detail.
Tabby Daly is a provocative exploration of the rise of the Great Famine against the titular characters' mischiefs within the community of rural Ireland. Anchored by a spellbinding central performance from Andrea Kelly, alongside John Doherty and Conor Kilkelly’s formalism, Tabby Daly is an engrossing experience.

Time to Go
A short satirical feminist thriller directed by Thomas Elliott Griffiths, written by Rob Sharp and starring Pamela Mayoss and Patrick Jeffries.
Megan (Mayoss) is an office worker who does not like her boss, Gavin (Jeffries). Gavin is a narcissistic and obnoxious man and Megan has been working for him for ages. She has finally had enough of his terrible behaviour and has made the decision to stop him once and for all. She is going to kill him.
The concept of this amusing (in a dark way) and also quite sinister: a frustrated and angry employee wants to murder her awful boss. Although that is the plot, the film does not have a straightforward narrative. Things are seen through Megan's perspective, and she spends almost the entire duration breaking the fourth wall and addressing the audience, with her words being voice-over. The film begins with her being at her workplace and describing what a wicked person Gavin is and the rest is primarily about Megan meticulously plotting the murder describing how she is going to do it (and looking online for instructions), while two members of law enforcement investigate a crime (the murder?). There is tension and distressing scenes and the unsettling atmosphere is accompanied by Ray Badger's cool music with great drumming.
Mayoss leads the film very effectively by portraying a woman determined to make the world a better place by eliminating a vile individual. She is methodical and very angry with the injustice that she is witnessing. Jeffries's character is the guy targeted by Megan, a corporate man whose lack of consideration for others is evident when it comes to firing people and he perceives women as sex objects. A very unpleasant person.
Via a plot about murder and revenge, this short acts as an exploration of feminism, sexism, narcissism and hatred. To a degree, there are elements that make this viewing about misandry, a consideration that is motivated by the character of Gavin, as he is presented as utterly despicable.
A film with dark humour and a lot of drama that is less keen on telling a story, focusing instead on a situation where a person has decided to commit murder. The result is an intriguing viewing that gains a lot from Mayoss's performance.

Sorry We're Closed
A long-term couple struggling to keep the spark alive in their relationship decide to embark upon a night of ill-advised spontaneity, breaking into their local fish and chip shop to have themselves a late-night supper.
Jacob (Muyunda) and Olivia (Bentley) have settled into coupled-up life. They understand each other really well and know each other inside out, meaning that there’s not an awful lot of surprises going on in their lives anymore. On a typical night in, Jacob has fallen asleep on the couch and Olivia is trying her best to cajole him into some sort of action by making pinpointed jokes about his energy levels and the lack of any sort of ambition in his life. She seems to think that he’s the problem without ever actually realising that she’s a miserable, hen-pecking, shrew.
Trying his best to keep the peace in the face of insistent emotional abuse, Jacob listens to Olivia’s entreaties and agrees to accompany her to the local chip shop for the chance of some late-night fried food, all the while knowing it to be already shut. Lo-and-behold, as they rock up to the chippy, the door’s shut and the lights are off, meaning that fish is back off the menu. This, of course, causes another argument, where Olivia has another go at Jacob and as soon as he defends himself, gets all upset and huffy and goes off to pout by herself at the side of the road. All seems to be lost, until Jacob manages to bust the door open, and they decide to make themselves a slap-up meal without anyone else knowing. Despite the illegality of what they’re doing, Olivia brightens up when she gets what she wants, and they set about frying themselves some nice fish for their supper.
Set in the town of Beeston in Nottinghamshire, in the real-world location of Gill’s Fish and Chip Shop, and presented as a comedy/drama, Sorry We’re Closed is a quintessential British story of getting yourself into difficult situations. At the constant beratement of his partner, Jacob knows that what he’s doing is wrong, but still goes through with it to make her happy, inviting us to share in their low-key crime as they try to fix the issues in their relationship. It is this excruciating extra-mile, into uncharted waters, that allows Sorry We’re Closed to aim for British classics like Only Fools and Horses, or Fawlty Towers, as we watch with one eye closed, knowing that things will never end well for our plucky, unhappy couple.
Writer/director, Jonathan Hawes, keeps us up-close and personal with the couple in their more intimate moments, most of which are when they are aggravating one another, and uses hand-held motion to retain the feeling that we are walking with them along their path, as they search out their future together. We are invited into their space and their lives, with snippets of dialogue reaching into their past to furnish us with some idea of where their shared animosity might come from. This works pretty well in keeping everything grounded and low-key but also stops there from being any sort of cinematic vision that could be attributed to the scenario.
The acting from both leads is fairly decent, selling enough of their character to be believable, but when Olivia is situated as such a horrible human being it’s hard to become invested in anything that she wants in the story. When the chip shop owner turns up, too, his delivery is not so great and the short scene becomes very am-dram in its aspect until the shock twist. Thankfully, the production value comes through, especially in David Rubenstein’s accompanying score, and the whole film knits together as a viable relationship drama. Unfortunately, the comedy aspect never really gets off the ground, and any jokes made by the couple are just thinly-veiled digs at one another and so don’t raise a smile from the audience, with no out-and-out humour appearing anywhere along the way.
There is plenty to be said in Hawes’ scenario, about life, love, and the fragility of long-term relationships, and while we as the audience are party to the mistakes and lessons learned along the way from the bad decisions that are made, this never translates to the characters, who are oblivious to any harm done. This makes it difficult to support the couple on their journey, and in the end we’d probably rather see them get their just desserts instead of a fresh fish supper.

Neram Nallaruku
A short crime comedy from Singapore, written by Arivazhagann Abel, Mridul Samrat, Sivakumar Meenashre and Akram Mohammad, directed by Abel and starring himself, Meenashre, Prabu Kirubaahgara and Rifath Mohamed.
Just explaining that the English translation for ''Neram Nallaruku'' is ''Time is Good''.
A kidnapping is taking place and the people involved are not sure how to deal with it. The two abductees are Varun (Arivazhagann), an insecure young man who suffers from panic disorder and Pavithra (Meenashre), the woman he intends to propose to with the discreet help of his friend, Akash (Nachiappan S). However, before he is able to find the courage to do so, the two of them are snatched by Kaali (Kirubaahgara), a criminal who intends to use them threaten Pavithra's gangster brother, Rudhra (Mohamed) for ransom.
The film begins with a humorous title card explaining the meaning of panic disorder, indicating that this is not going to be a serious viewing and it is not. Following an intended marriage proposal that does not occur, the criminals enter the scene, and they are not very efficient, leading to a series of awkward events that include a phone conversation about ransom that ends up full of misunderstandings and an inprisoned Varun calling Akash and asking for life-saving advice while the latter gives it by chilling in front of the TV. A story filled with misunderstandings and clumsiness and the comedic atmosphere is supported by Surya Sahish's amusing music.
The acting is not convincing, however it is still entertaining, with the cast making the characters come across as naive in the face of life-threatening situations. Varun is mostly serious or perhaps oblivious to his situation, not knowing how to handle things. Pavithra is rebellious and as for Rudhra and Kaali, well, they appear to be inexperienced when it comes to kidnappings.
But utilising an abduction concept, this short tells a story about naivety, deception, misunderstanding and mortal danger. Additionally, it also manages to be a commentary about romance and self-esteem.
This is just twenty minutes of fun, watching a kidnapping having unexpected complications to comical effect. And the animation during the credits deserves commendations.

Gloria’s Cut
Gloria’s Cut is a bloody and satirical short film about a struggling actress working at a diner. One night, she ends up confronting a seemingly more successful (and infinitely more pretentious) actress who finds her way into said diner. The two of them begin by discussing pages of a script for an audition which both characters wish to pursue. What progresses is an increasingly volatile, revealing and ultimately – as established in its cyclical opening – murderous encounter. There is so much to enjoy about the narrative of this picture as well as its superbly flashy and slick production. Whilst this is a chamber-piece for the most part, all of the structural skill is placed clearly on display; yet furthermore, within its 15-minute runtime, the filmmakers manage to also probe some deep and perceptive areas of interest...
Thematically speaking, what Gloria’s Cut presents is an engaging take on favouritism in the entertainment industry and encouraged pursuit/obsession with stardom – but through the lens of reflexive 90s nostalgia. This is a high-level screenplay, and one which I should mention is being used as a proof-of-concept for a feature-length project titled No Doubt. Personally, I find this fact to be a bit of a two-edged sword. For if there is any complaint I have of the film (though not so much of the work itself but the context provided) it’s that the heightened, to-the-point tone suits a short-form piece so well that one can’t necessarily envision it being as impactful as a long-form piece. However, having seen how incredibly well the filmmakers can get a handle on tone, setting and message, I’m confident that the feature will share this same level of artistic care and genre-based passion. My only worry is that it would feel similar to The Substance (also better as a short) whose tone becomes tiresome and repetitive.
But like many short films, what we witness is effectively a single extended conversation, and what allows the audience to engage with these ideas in the first place is the terrific style and mood being constructed through the sound and visuals. There’s an irresistible neon aesthetic at play here, with both lighting and colour producing a simultaneously grimy yet comforting atmosphere. Because of this specificity of style and place, I was sold on the film within the first few shots. If anything, the fact that the film takes place in the 90s is more a satisfyingly convenient aesthetic tool rather than a story-trait – although it never feels like a gimmick.
Written, directed and starring Olivia Gropp, this is a movie with a unique, personal vision. I’m also happy to report that Gropp manages all three of her creative roles with great success – this is not an indulgent or unbalanced work; it is, instead, carefully directed, effectively written and entertainingly performed. And the fact that this is a self-directed work may only add to the cohesion of the vision. To surmise, Gloria’s Cut demonstrates some truly impeccable storytelling and cinematic flair – a fun talky work of drama as well as an appropriately exaggerated gore-fest.

Belonging and the Scene
With her film debut, director Monica Dhaka explores the world of kink community by utilising the story of Pup Momo.
Momo is part of this community, a homosexual who enjoys rubber puppy play, meaning that he dresses in fetish clothing that includes a rubber mask that resembles a dog's head for fun and sexual satisfaction. When he enters role play, he calls himself ''Momo''. Via this short documentary, viewers will get to know him and learn about the world of fetish.
Momo is the centre of this film and he is interviewed, with his voice-over covering his childhood, how he currently lives his life and the kinky community. Attracted to role-playing fetishes, Pup Momo grew up in the United States, with parents from the Netherlands. He won the title of Mr. Rubber Netherlands 2022, proving his strong dedication to this group of people. With the use of home video footage, viewers get to see him as a playful child.
Through Pup Momo's words and archival footage, people will get an idea of what the kink community is, how big it is, with competitions like the one won by Momo, magazines such as the Mr B Wings (a BDSM magazine to which Bohnen is a contributor) and parades like the Amsterdam Pride Canal Parade proving how widely established it has become. All this is accompanied by Dhaka's emotional music.
One of the purposes of this documentary is to shed light on the world of kinky people and defend them, to reveal that they are not disturbed or antisocial as some think they are, but individuals who are united because they share particular desires and activities and that their world is a group where everyone is accepted.
This fifteen-minute-long short provides a brief but thoughtful insight into the world of kink communities and shows that it is a place where people can find happiness and acceptance, where they can be who they want to be and be comfortable with self-expression. It also communicates the message that just because someone is unusual does not mean they are no good.
Some viewers might find the subject matter uncomfortable, however, this documentary deserves recognition because ultimately, it points out that people who are part of this network do so in order to be happy and (as the title suggests) to belong.

Eructation
Eructation is a short documentary that follows Kaylee Kotkins, a young woman with incredible burping abilities, as she aims to break the world record for the loudest burp, currently set at 107.3 decibels. Her loudest belch to date is 110 decibels in practice, and she uses a decibel reader app on her phone to calculate her burps. This documentary follows her as she prepares to break that record, while also briefly exploring her relationship with her partner, Eric, as he endures Kaylee’s absurd challenge.
One of the most unique aspects of the documentary is not only its original and absurd concept but also the use of decibel numbers as a central narrative device for Kaylee as she utilises other sounds around their home. She finds a plethora of objects, such as a hair dryer, to measure the loudness of her burps. While there isn't much material to sustain a feature-length runtime, its tight runtime works in its favour, as the passionate personality of Kaylee shines through, and the filmmakers get straight to the point without ever stretching the material out. Max Henderson, serving as the film's cinematographer, primarily shoots the documentary with close-ups of Kaylee and overhead shots around her home as she prepares for the challenge. Most of the dialogue is delivered through a litany of exposition, so the audience rarely gets to know Kaylee as a person, but only her intention for the documentary.
Thankfully, many of the comedic elements of the piece land surprisingly well and the inclusion of Kaylee’s partner, Eric, offers a unique perspective on her challenge. The piece is paced incredibly well with some commendable editing choices, making the film feel frenetic in its attempt to match Kaylee’s efforts to beat her record. The brisk pace at which the expository dialogue is delivered can be overwhelming at times; however, it's ultimately a necessary choice to keep the piece utterly engaging throughout. As a viewer, it's hard not to root for Kaylee to achieve her goal, and that's a testament to how instantly the filmmakers draw the audience in, despite its incredibly minimal runtime. The piece also provides some education about the human body and the mechanisms by which we burp to relieve pressure after swallowing air while eating and drinking. The lengths to which she goes to achieve this record are mostly entertaining to endure, and it's not something that has ever really been explored within cinema.
Despite the documentary offering fairly minor context to Kaylee and Eric outside of what is depicted on camera, the direction from Victoria Trow elevates the material by giving the piece some needed propulsive nature. While the conclusion to the piece ends abruptly, Kaylee’s challenge is profoundly executed by the filmmakers, consistently finding evocative ways to frame each scene.
Eructation is a fascinating experimentation held together by Kaylee Kotkin's sheer ambition and some commendable direction and editing choices. While the piece offers fairly minor material outside of the central challenge Kaylee sets for herself, it's an aptly made piece of filmmaking, presenting an absurd concept that is both wildly entertaining and surprisingly educational.
Eructation will celebrate its world premiere at the 2026 SXSW Film Festival

Drowned
They say that the closest thing to war that most people ever experience is divorce. Ryan Nunes’ short film Drowned follows a couple in the aftermath of a separation, each side bearing the scars that complicate their lives as single parents in a melodramatic but moving short.
After a fight with partner Jake (Nunes) at a Christmas party, we follow Sarah (Sonya Richards) as she navigates single parenthood of her daughter Emma (Julia Little). Sarah finds motherhood overwhelming, suffering from small memory lapses that lead to big problems. After forgetting Emma’s EpiPen, Sarah and Ryan find themselves in an emotional confrontation – where bitterness, anger and unresolved fractures explode into the open.
Drowned tackles difficult questions about parenthood and divorce with a considerate tone and a careful hand. Ryan Nunes constructs characters with depth and reality, asking his audience to empathise with both parties of the divorce and engage with their qualities and their flaws as real people, rather than cutout characters. Jake’s outburst at Sarah feels aggressive at first, but his own struggles that originate in the breakdown of their relationship mean audiences will be able to understand his exasperation in a moment where he fears for the safety of his daughter. Similarly, the time we spend with Sarah where we see how her mental and physical condition lead to daily struggles just in her own life lead us give her grace naturally. It fits perfectly with the film’s message – that parenthood can be unconventional but is always easier shared, even in ways that we may not see firsthand.
At times the film dials the melodrama up to 11, in moments that are emotional but a little awkwardly bulldozed into the story. The performers discard any sense of nuance in favour of amped-up cry-shouting. When appropriate this can be the crescendo of finely built dramatic tension that ensures no eye in the house is left dry. But rushed, and it feels like dramatic overkill – the acting equivalent of using a sledgehammer to crack a nut. There is no doubt that both Ryan Nunes and Sonya Richards are excellent at portraying a breakdown. But the place of the pivotal exchange involving the EpiPen feels rushed in the context of the narrative. Whilst it is possible to imagine real parents reacting this way, the storytelling of the film makes the moment feel a little unearned, particularly seeing as it is a trigger for the two finding common ground in what is the climax of the film.
The film looks crisp and professional with some interesting using of lighting – which ‘drowns’ out of the screen as Sarah’s desperation grows throughout the film. Nunes’ direction is also solid enough, knowing how to present Sarah as someone finding life more and more difficult and unhinged whilst her former partner becomes an invading entity (Nunes’ way of presenting his own character in the film who uncomfortably throws off the focus and balance is a particular highlight).
Whilst Drowned is imperfect structurally and will not pull up any trees when it comes to storytelling around parenthood (its release close to the dazzlingly original If I Had Legs I’d Kick You not helping in this regard), it is a solid enough effort from director, writer and star Ryan Nunes and his team which will speak to people navigating parenthood or even just those who have ever felt isolated when dealing with an imperceivable task.

The Crusader
Tim Cullingworth-Hudson writes, directs and stars in this captivating medieval dark fantasy.
Within one and a half minutes, with the use of striking visuals, epic music and drama, this short takes the viewer on an adventurous journey.
The film does not concentrate on telling a story, but rather to present a situation, or perhaps more appropriately, an otherwordly confrontation that takes place in the middle a battlefield. The setting is the Middle Ages and the titular Crusader (voiced by Hudson) awakens in an open area filled with dead bodies and fires. It is the aftermath of a devastating battle and as the warrior proceeds to rise, a demonic entity emerges from the soil (voiced by Betts) and begins to verbally condemn him. But the man is strong.
Regarding the mise-en-scene, it looks superb, creating a dark medieval period environment. There are brief scenes of battle, with armoured soldiers wielding their weapons in slow motion. Filmed almost entirely in black-and-white, colour is present only in shots of blood being spilled. The black-and-white cinematography makes the atmosphere feel rather sinister, which is fitting given the events that take place. The appearance of the monster turns things towards fantasy and it appears to be a being of pure evil. The creature is anthropomorphic, has huge crow-like wings on its back and sharp teeth. As for the warrior, the hero, he is a bearded man, wearing heavy armour.
This film would not be so impactful without the dynamic music. Dramatic chanting and strong drumming create a powerful atmosphere that promises adventure and brutal confrontation.
Regarding the Crusader, voice-over describes him as a veteran of many battles, who is living a life of violence that will never lead to solace. His spirit is strong, but his many experiences in the battlefield have left mental scars in him. Moreover, it is indicated that he also possesses magical powers. As for the winged creature, it seems to be his utlimate enemy, menacingly telling him that there is no salvation.
During its short duration, this film manages to explore religion, the brutality of war, bravery, self-reflection, redemption and desperation. It is a story about Good vs Evil, with the Crusader representing Good and the creature symbolizing Evil.
A sword and sorcery tale filled with excitement and confrontation. It is a brief experience but one that never loses its power from start to finish and it carries the message that when people are going through challenging times and the odds are against them, they must never give up.
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