Latest Short Film Reviews

A short fantasy comedy drama from Pakistan, written and directed by Misrah Fatima Nizami and starring Syed Saad Farrukh, Maria Jawed, Maria Ahmed, Haris Asif and RJ Imran Khan.

Sabeel (Farrukh), a Pakistani film critic is assigned to write a review about Cin-E-Rama, a film theatre that is about to close its doors permanently and also write about the final film to be shown there. He reluctantly agrees and arrives at the location on the business's last day of operations. After meeting the projectionist (Hassan Malik), Sabeel enters the auditorium and he is soon joined by a man named Ifthikar (Khan), who claims to be the owner of the theatre. Following a brief conversation, Ifthikar offers to show the critic some aspects of what cinema has to offer. What follows is a journey involving the beauty and influence of motion pictures.

With a screenplay that includes English and Urdu, this half-an-hour short tells an amusing, emotional and thoughtful story. To begin with, it starts interestingly and pleasantly, with Farrukh introducing himself by breaking the forth wall. Then, approximately halfway through, the narrative ascapes from normality and enters a world about the history of cinema and the positive effects it has on the world. This is primarily explored through a young woman and a young man (Ahmed and Asif), who meet in an auditorium while watching a film and Maujza (Jawed), a famous actress. Special mention goes to the creativity during this sequence, especially the part where two characters travel through film history, as it contains splendid cinematography by Shahzaib Ali.

There is a part where the film turns into a music video where two characters suddenly proceed to dance while the song Girlfriend is Better by Talking Heads is played. Although it is an enjoyable scene and it demonstrates how joyful cinema can be, having it appear almost out of nowhere feels awkward.

Back in 2020, the writer of this review had the pleasure of reviewing Elo, another short film starring Farrukh and once again, he proves his strong acting abilities. This time, he portrays an experienced film critic who appears to have lost his passion following the effects COVID-19 had on the industry. Regarding the supporting characters, Jawed stands out the most as a well-known and acclaimed performer who has also had negative experiences through her profession. As for Ahmed and Asif, they do well as two youths with a passion for cinema who build a rapport between them and Khan is a knowlegeable theatre owner with a unique perspective on the significance of films.

This story provides an insight into what it is like working as a film critic and the challenges that COVID-19 created for the film industry. Moreover, it works as a commentary about self-discovery and having a passion. And, quite evidenlty, it explores the joy that motion pictures bring.

It is obvious that an intention of this project was to pay homage to the film world, embracing its history, the people who contributed to it and those who continue to contribute. It will most likely appeal not just to film fans but to those who appreciate an intriguing and thoughtful story.

A short comedy drama from Australia directed by Harrison Winter Altmann, written by Altmann and Imogen Fennessy and starring Gary Samolin, Roxanne Halley, Shawn Richard, Kiara Ariza Stellato and Huw Jennings.

It is opening night at a community theatre and the cast and crew are busy getting ready for the big show. Among them is seasoned actor Grant (Samolin), who makes things difficult for others with his unkind behaviour, criticizing those around him and playing the superior. As he walks around the theatre and backstage, he encounters a variety of characters, including Bella (Halley), the stage manager, Tommy (Richard), a young actor trying to balance his work in the theatre with his coursework and Laura (Stellato) and Kyle (Jennings), two performers who are in a relationship. These poor people have to endure Grant's demands and rude comments.

Perhaps the aspect that stands out the most is that this film was filmed in one continuous take lasting just under twenty minutes and the result is quite impressive, be it the strong performances or the creative camerawork that primarily involves following Grant through the theatre. Regarding the screenplay, it does a good job exploring the characters and maintaining an intriguing story. Since the plot takes place inside a theatre, with the cast and crew as protagonists who are getting ready for a play, one might think of the 2014 Academy Award-winning feature Birdman, the entirety of which was made to appear as one long take. Fans of this feature are likely to appreciate the creativity in Curtain Call, whose music also resembles that of Birdman, mostly because of the drums.

If one was to state something negative regarding this short, it would probably be hard to think of one. The acting is superb, the screenplay is strong and it was filmed very skilfully. It would be difficult to imagine how this project could had been better.

Samolin is the main protagonist and he plays a narcissistic and inconsiderate ageing actor, who does not think twice when it comes to saying what he is thinking, with complete disregard for how he affects other people's feelings. He values his profession and believes he is better than everyone else. Stellato and Jennings stand out as performers who are also a couple, although their relationship is unstable and they argue quite a bit. Regarding Richard, he comes across as kind of quiet and reserved, a guy for whom theatre might not be a passion.

Narcissism is a major theme in this story and so is self-reflection and relationships and prospects are also involved. From a different perspective, the film provides an insight into the lives of actors and what working in a theatre is like.

It could be argued that this film focuses primarily on character study rather than the plot and that works very well. The strong acting, the creative and impressive camerawork and the themes make this short a work of great standards.

After being deported from the UK a young Gambian man finds it difficult to integrate and be accepted back in his homeland as the family that risked everything to get him there show only disappointment and resentment at his return.

As an illegal immigrant, Momodou (Jagne) is being deported from the UK and sent back to his homeland of Gambia. Taking the dangerous and risky route of ‘The Backway’ out of Gambia, across the Sahara Desert and the Mediterranean Sea, Momodou was sent to Britain with as much money and best wishes as his family could muster. Momodou’s father even sold the family home to help pay for his crossing, safe in the belief that he was sending his son on to a better life and a better world, where he could then make enough money to send back and keep the family afloat.

Nobody’s wishes came true, however, and Momodou now has to come to terms with being right back where he started, in the same situation that caused him to become an economic migrant in the first place, with no money, no job and no prospects, and now with the added ire of his family, especially his brother Alieu (Ceesay). The only person happy to see Momodou is his sister, Safi (Colley) and she tries her best to keep the peace between the men of the household, although with only limited results. Momodou’s father (Sonko) is now bedridden, with his health deteriorating rapidly and dementia robbing him of any family relationships he could still have had left.

Seeing the dire circumstances that he left his family in, Momodou must try to deal with his shame and his guilt while Alieu makes it very clear that he is no longer welcome within the family household. It is this conflict which lies at the heart of The Backway and which is the focus of writer, director, producer and star, Cherno Jagne.

Throughout The Backway we are treated to some glorious visuals of life in Gambia, although Jagne is careful to keep things muted and somewhat enclosed for the sake of his story. Cinematographer, Alain Philippe Cross takes in the people and surroundings with as much light and colour as he can get away with, but always there are metaphorical dark clouds hanging over the characters and their situation. The expressions on people’s faces are almost exclusively sombre and negative, while the backstreets and indoor settings are used to show the limited scope of their lives. In the end this engenders a feeling of claustrophobia in the viewer which allows us to identify and empathise with Momodou’s predicament.

The original music from composer Adriano Aponte also adds an extra layer on top of the visuals to bring the audience into Momodou’s life in Gambia. The extended chords and sombre tones add texture to the narrative and complement the emotions underpinning the story with remarkable accuracy. The performances, too, from Jagne himself, but mostly from Babou Ceesay as Alieu, really ground the reality of Momodou’s story into something tangible and concrete, taking a situation which may not be known to most and making it real for us on screen. The final moments of the film are an absolute testament to the power and the personal nature of these performances.

At only seventeen minutes long, The Backway fits plenty of backstory into its runtime and offers the audience enough relationships and interaction to believe in its characters and its narrative. It is a very well shot and put together film with all the technical elements coming together seamlessly to provide a very polished result. Cherno Jagne is a filmmaker and talent who obviously understands and loves his craft, and when the product of his endeavours is something like The Backway, we should all be happy to look forward to seeing what he is capable of bringing us next.

A short tense thriller written and directed by Christian La Morte and starring Sophia Lucia Parola, Thomas Philip O'Neill, Brandice Peltier and Grant Neale.

A podcast is taking place and many people disapprove. An IQ-enhancing serum has been developed and clinical psychologist Dr. Janet Weddley (Peltier) is promoting it. The serum is widely disliked by the public and Weddley is now in a recording studio, doing a live podcast with host Sean Palermo (O'Neill) for his show Palermo's Perspectives. Joining them is sociologist Professor Clive Mason Jr. (Neale) and the three of them informally discuss the serum during the podcast. Meanwhile, the show's producer and Sean's partner, Becca (Parola) is observing through her laptop people's dramatic reactions regarding the podcast and fears that if the podcast continues, things might go terribly wrong.

This short has quite an intriguing plot: a podcast taking place that is causing a massive uproar. The screenplay basically alternates between the podcast, with the host and the two guests having their friendly discussion and Becca, who is realising that the show is making everyone furious, with people expressing their anger towards Weddley online and protesting for the podcast to be cancelled. The tension rises and rises as Sean ignores Becca's pleas for him to stop the show. The performances are top-notch, the story is interesting and the technical aspects of the film are of great quality, be it the dynamic music by Benjamin Doherty, the moody cinematography by Anthony Altamura or the creative editing.

There are several montage sequences throughout, which create tension and drama by depicting the chaos that is unfolding outside the studio, because of the podcast. These sequences are expertly created, with effective use of superimposition, however, it could be argued that they are a bit overused, appearing too much throughout the film.

As mentioned, the acting is excellent, with the main cast very convincing in their roles. O'Neill's part is that of an experienced podcaster who is quite dedicated to his job. Peltier is an ambitious psychologist, while Neale is a sociologist with a childish behaviour. These three characters are oblivious to the potential danger that might be arriving due to the podcast, unlike Becca, who seems to be sensible and vigilant.

This short explores ways in which people communicate their perspectives in today's world, that being through the internet and the services that it contains. It provides an insight into the world of podcasts and it is a commentary about social media and how people utilise them in order to spread their messages and influence people. Technology aside, the film also looks into ignorance and public anger.

This film can be appreciated both as a thriller with an interesting plot and for the themes that it deals with that are mentioned above. Overall, this is a very-well-made short that offers a tense experience and also a thoughtful one.

The Lantern Man is a short horror based on English folklore – but set within very modern parameters. Its protagonist is haunted by voices and visions, with viewers left to ponder whether the true horror is in them being true or false.

David (Tim Cullingworth-Hudson) awakens from unconsciousness in an abandoned house alone. He hears the voices of his abusive father (Nigel Betts) and mother (Ali Lidbetter), as well as his missing wife (Janina Picard), who recount painful memories and moments from his past. But not all of these are memories that he recognises. The visions lead him to probe deeper into the house – unbeknownst that a horrifying presence is leading him along…

The Lantern Man is a solid short horror in its own right, well-paced and wasting no time in cranking up the tension and scares throughout its crisp 5-minute run. Ominous music, skittish edits and the genuinely unnerving voiceovers from David’s family (delivered with visceral menace in particular by Nigel Betts) provide standard scares that audiences will expect. The house David explores is similarly intimidating and designed with darkness in mind, whilst the titular Lantern Man (Grant Halford), who makes only a brief but memorable appearance suitably disturbs – a triumph for the visual and practical effects team.

What makes this short stand out is the ambiguity woven throughout David’s brief investigation. The audience knows nothing about this man from the moment he awakens. We hear the voices in his head, and his own responses to these. But where the truth lies is another matter. Are the memories of his father’s abuse or his failure as a husband his own? Or are they implanted by the Lantern Man? David’s insistence that he doesn’t drink suggests their presence may be sinister, but then again it never is truly explained why he passed out…

Is the Lantern Man a monster seeking out his next victim? Or a presence called upon by those deserving of his fury? It is these kinds of questions that make this film memorable. Tim Cullingworth-Hudson’s performance in the leading role is impressive in its own regard, but his script and direction (along with Jon Kent) is his finest contribution to the film – adding an isolation and depth to David that is impossible to discern from performance alone.

The Lantern Man hits the target that all horror films should aim for – in making real-life as scary as the monsters. The questions around David’s past and his actions towards those he loves are what make his situation terrifying, the Lantern Man is just a bonus. In world of mediocre films that do a lot less with a lot more, The Lantern Man lights the way.

French short 1 Degré de Séparation packs an emotional punch. Set a little-known French law that permits posthumous marriage, it explores the complexity of emotions experienced by those who go through with such an arrangement. What may have otherwise been a straightforward tear-jerker actually considers more difficult and realistic journeys that partners go through following the loss of a lover.

The film follows Victoria (Lauriane Gillieron) on her wedding day. Already dressed in white, she tries to navigate final preparations whilst kids and family members circumnavigate her. A strange tension in the air and fraught conversations suggest there is an underlying schism in her upcoming nuptials. But the reality of her marriage-to-be and the hesitancy that surrounds the event is revealed to be something all the more tragic.

Undying love is at the heart of 1 Degré de Séparation, with a closing message dedicating the short to those who are left behind. The conclusion is a bittersweet but touching moment in which Victoria realises the importance of her decision and attains a sense of peach – movingly and powerfully captured by Lauriane Gillieron. In this sense the film is something of a tribute to the obscure and unusual law in France that permits posthumous unions – one that provides comfort and finality to the bereaved.

There are moments of drama in the lead-up to the ceremony relating to family heirlooms, much of which however feel like more of a preamble in place to add a dramatic edge. Running at a crisp ten minutes, the film doesn’t really delve too far into the more ethical, moral or practical questions around the law. Granted this may not be the purpose, but given that the filmmakers are clearly happy to raise some questions around Victoria’s decision it feels like a missed opportunity to take on any critics who may stand in opposition to the legal function, or who have questions about how such marriages can work once the credits roll. Much of this is a result of wanting to maintain the surprise ending of the film – a dramatic conclusion for sure, but one that perhaps undermines the actual purpose of the short.

1 Degré de Séparation is surprisingly engaging and does avoid some of the soppier pitfalls that a film addressing spousal loss may have encountered. Some of its storytelling however is a little confusing and it elects not to tackle certain ethical aspects of its subject.

Atmospheric horror short Reunion is a twisted take on the fractured family dynamic, one in which a son out for inheritance ahead of reconciliation gets more than he bargains for.

Sean (Patrick Thomas Kovacs) arranges a reunion with his father Robert (Brett Bickley). Already feeling the strain of a tumultuous relationship with his wife Lydia (Erika Herbert), Sean hopes to acquire his father’s inheritance money to enhance his own wealth. But his selfish nature blinds him to the consequences of his own actions. The transformation of their relationship becomes evident to Sean, but a literal transformation shocks him even more…

Reunion is at its core an intense family drama, with a solid coat of werewolf paint to dial up the horror. Gothic and moody in its setting, Sean’s harsh and uncaring nature is matched by that of the world he inhabits. It is classic horror with a capital ‘c’, echoing the typical stylings of the genre. Director Mark Lakatos ability to implant the modern with gothic elements is impressive, and whilst the locations are not the most thrilling, a bubbling sinister undercurrent is what provides the horror with momentum.

The visual effects that realise the wolf itself are a triumph considering the film’s smaller budget. Audiences will feel the rotten breath and saliva-spittle from the gruesome jaws as they approach Sean. Whilst the transformation itself is largely omitted, the filmmakers make full use of less being more, and the pre-built tension emerging in the pivotal scene means one’s imagination paints a vivid picture – as does Kovacs’ terrified response. A dynamic opening animated sequence further illuminates the short, linking the film into the occult and historical portrayals of wolves throughout history and the terror they pose for all humankind.

Patrick Thomas Kovacs is a ruthless and uncaring Sean – a man with little in the way of redeeming qualities who finds himself at the mercy of the otherworldly transformation of his father. Kovacs brilliantly captures the nature of the manipulator, with viewers invited to ponder on the nature of his relationships with those around him. Brett Bickley as father Robert delivers some ominous soliloquies and aplomb, though the film does feel a little unimaginative at moments that linger with his character. The dialogue in some of these sequences leaves a little to be desired – and whilst scary-sounding doesn’t always progress the narrative in a way that feels necessary.

Reunion is a film unafraid to hold the old faithful techniques of horror close to its heart. It as accomplishment to feel modern and classic simultaneously, and whilst there are occasional cracks in its dialogue or narrative that leads to confusion these are few and far between. This short is a frightful, intense and considered chiller, one that will leave a bite-sized mark.

When Lucia (Suarez) discovers her childhood friend Nicole (Levis) living on the streets because her mother has forced her out of the house after Nicole’s coming out, Lucia’s mother Ximena (Nichols) allows Nicole to stay with them for the time being. However, Nicole’s re-appearance into their lives brings about questions and indeed realisations as to her own daughter’s identity and the truth behind her relationship with Nicole.

Lucia and Nicole offers a welcome addition to queer cinema that focuses not primarily on the intricacies of a specific relationship, but rather on how those who orbit that relationship come to face truths that they had previously hidden from themselves, as well as the way they choose to move forward thereafter. So, while Lucia and Nicole may be the titular characters, and of course, the story does get across the depth of their relationship to a degree, here it’s Ximena as the heedful mother that pulls the narrative focus, as the film looks to explore the idea of acceptance, of choosing love over all else.

There isn’t much of a deep dive into the backstory of everything going on here, but given that Lucia and Nicole’s mission is to tell the story of the now and after rather than the before of these character’s lives, that’s completely fine. It’s quite a lean, subdued film, with not many bells and whistles or heavy drama going on here, but its directness means that its message and sentiment can cut through clear as day. It moves to show that despite perhaps evolving and growing acceptance of individuality, situations such as Nicole’s are still commonplace, and the repercussions of that lack of acceptance can destroy lives and relationships irreparably.

We learn throughout the film’s ten minutes everything we need to to make the narrative take complete shape in our heads, having been granted a short window into these people’s lives which writer/director Marlene Emilia Rios makes sure is more than enough to connect, understand and at the end, hope nothing for the best for these characters going forward, an impressive achievement in such a short time frame.

Was Ximena indeed so unaware of the true nature of Lucia and Nicole’s relationship, or is a certain sense of denial simply eroding away? The film leaves it unclear, but its real aim is to show that Ximena now in fact faces a pivotal moment in how to proceed. It’s a short filled with poignancy and message, brought to life through concise yet powerful storytelling and a dependable cast bringing it all home.

A quite contained and minimal short, but nonetheless succinct and affecting as it achieves what it sets out to do, Lucia and Nicole is a wonderful addition to queer cinema.

In Pakistan a young man wins tickets to Medina on a gameshow, which he hopes to use to fulfil his parents’ lifelong dream of completing the pilgrimage of Umrah.

Siraj has struck it lucky. He has entered a television gameshow and won two tickets to Medina as a result. Siraj thinks that he can finally give his parents what they have always wanted, a way to conduct the pilgrimage of Umrah, by giving them the tickets and sending them on their merry way without the crippling cost which would normally be involved. There’s only one problem – Siraj and his family are considered ‘illegal’, and as such have no identity cards or passports, nor do they have any way of obtaining them.

In his hurry to provide for his parents, Siraj solicits advice from his best friend Saleem, who tells him of a forger that could help out with the document situation. This, however, will elicit an enormous cost in and of itself, and so Siraj must go cap in hand to his boss to ask for the money to pay for this service. His boss, a shrewd but not unkind man, offers to help, but in return he asks for Siraj’s ‘ancestral’ boat as collateral. The boat has sat in the harbour for a long time without being taken to sea, as it used to belong to his brother who was lost on the waves years before. Nobody in the family is happy about this idea, but Siraj sees it as the only way to give his parents what they want, and can’t see the point in letting the boat rot away without anyone to sail in her.

As Siraj weighs up the cost of his parents’ spiritual salvation, and what the family may lose in return, he must search his own conscience and test his own faith to decide what he holds most dear. Director and co-writer Awais Hameed helps us through Siraj’s story, mixing between interior shots of the family home and open seascape down by the harbour. Siraj’s life certainly seems pulled in two directions, and Hameed shows us some good scenes with some quality photography in both sections. Getting into the story of Siraj’s situation is easy, and his continued motivation, even in the face of obvious tragedy, carries the engagement of the audience all the way to the end.

At seventeen-minutes, A Ticket To Paradise takes the time to tell it’s story properly. There’s enough space for all the necessary relationships and conversations to have meaning, and there’s some nice cinematography along the way. On the surface, A Ticket To Paradise may seem to have some basic motivations and archetypal conflict, but underneath the simplistic narrative lies some powerful imagery as well as a deeper message which really comes through in how the story turns out.

There’s a little more than meets the eye at first glance, and if you decide to buy A Ticket To Paradise, you’ll find a genuine film which tries to deliver on what it promises.

Philip Brocklehurst seems to be a rather prolific creative voice in the world of both short films and literature; a director whose style – if his latest picture is anything to go by – is defined by its maximalist visuals. Despite its short runtime of four minutes Vigilant is not particularly watchable, nor is it pleasant. That’s fine. Clearly, we’re to view the film more as a piece of visual art over anything meant for ‘entertainment’. This immediate realisation on the part of the viewer gets to the heart of the filmmaker as a provocateur. However – even with artistic intent in mind – the audience may very well be left wondering what, if anything, we're meant to take away from the experience. It’s an angry-feeling movie, meant to disturb and provoke. But then again, one questions whether the loud noises and upsetting images are really worth it; and does this film have anything to say beyond the surface-level Taxi Driver pastiche?

The movie depicts a series of criminals committing terrible acts within isolated vignettes, leading to our protagonist (portrayed by the film’s director) then committing the terrible act of murdering all of those people. It’s a lot of misery and chaos. Stylistically fragmentary, the film was shot during Covid lockdown – meaning that different actors shot their own scenes with the resources they had available. This is, in fact, one of the more endearing aspects of the movie. One enjoys the feeling that the collaborative aspect of the filmmaking process has been maintained, even despite the clear limitations. And then, additionally, the fact that Brocklehurst has edited it together to give the impression of an ensemble, lends the short a pleasing hand-made quality. Of course, the negative side of this is the filmic inconsistencies, yet I’m far more inclined to admire the ambition than to criticise the results.

From an editorial standpoint, this is incredibly experimental work. To their credit, the filmmaker demonstrates a clear and aggressively expressive authorial voice through the formal techniques in play – with the quick, psychologically disruptive cutting being the primary example of the film expressing its ambition through the technical over the thematic. It’s really exciting to see someone use the fluidity, and inherent unpleasantness, of digital cinema to make a truly assaultive viewing experience. The camerawork, while sort of muddy and occasionally flat-looking, is dynamic enough in its movement and energy to impress the eye. And the digitalness of the cinematography also complements the icky, underground atmosphere which the film manages to manifest.

The trouble comes with the intentionality of the work; many will find its messaging to be reductive, and not all that nuanced. While the filmmaking is delving into fabulously audacious territory, the narrative – that of a tortured, misguided man going out and murdering criminals – frankly doesn’t hold the same intrigue as it did in 1976. And if you’re trying to explore that sort of territory today, even discounting the distressing reminders of real-life crimes being committed in the world, I’d still like the movie to give me more of a reason as to why we’re witnessing this. It should be thematically thought-provoking; but instead, it remains only aesthetically stimulating – yet this is still in itself an achievement.