.png)
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.
The Marina
The Marina is a short documentary that follows producer Kieran Sullivan as he explores the significance of The Marina Market to the people of Cork City, Ireland. While the documentary is incredibly brisk and simplistic in its exploration of The Marina Market, it is evidently crafted with its heart in the right place, displaying a clear love and understanding for the material.
As the documentary opens, the viewer is immediately thrust into the experience with a somewhat jarring introduction to the central figure, Kieran Sullivan. While the material isn't anything groundbreaking in documentary filmmaking, its simplicity is welcoming and easily accessible to any viewer. It's an insightful and entertaining experience as the central figure delves into the significance of The Marina Market by interviewing many local individuals. The interviews are engaging thanks to the endearing and welcoming approach the central figure employs when asking a wide range of questions of many of the local individuals in Ireland. The Marina Market itself feels incredibly welcoming and may prompt the viewer to explore the area for themselves and learn more about what it provides.
Seán Leahy, serving as the director and the cinematographer, keeps the framing exceptionally engaging, as it mostly consists of wide shots that track the central figure in the exterior sequences. The camerawork is consistently engaging as you never lose sight of the narrative focus on The Marina Market. Another surprisingly impactful aspect of the piece is the infrequent use of needle drops that feel apt within establishing shots of the surrounding area of Cork City. The pacing throughout is also incredibly fluid, as the documentary's primary focus is straight to the point and it rarely overstays its welcome thanks to its brisk runtime.
Despite the strength of its formal craftsmanship, the documentary’s editing can at times be abrupt, shifting too quickly from establishing shots into dialogue-driven interviews. This issue is also apparent in the documentary's opening, which has no context for the central figure’s investigation. Another minor issue is the occasional soft focus in the camerawork, which becomes somewhat distracting during one of the extended interview segments. While much of the runtime is dedicated to interviewing a plethora of local individuals, towards the end of the piece, it loses some momentum as it focuses heavily on a prolonged conversation. That said, the documentary remains informative and reasonably engaging due to the depth of its coverage of the community.
Despite the piece losing some momentum towards the conclusion, the central figure's commitment to interviewing a wide range of individuals is commendable, and it feels rewarding due to the in-depth nature of his exploration of The Marina Market. While it may struggle to linger in viewers' minds after the credits roll due to its length, its exploration of The Marina Market is thoughtful and remains engaging throughout.
The Marina is an endearing and enjoyable experience, crafted with care and nuance for the significance of The Marina Market in Ireland. Despite its jarring editing at times, the documentary is a heartfelt and informative piece of filmmaking made by a group of inspiring young filmmakers.
The Applecalypse
As the debut short-film of 21 year old Vietnamese director Minh Ngô, this film is perhaps one of the most unique projects produced in recent memory. This film was created in an attempt to create a brand new “Neo-Mythical” genre, defined by its absurdist, high energy, and historically-inspired (emphasis on inspired) characteristics. But does ‘The Applecalypse’ succeed in this pursuit?
Ngô claims he is making an ‘active effort to ensure that his works will be unlike anything the audience have ever seen before, on both a conceptual and emotional level’. However it could be argued that what makes this project so unprecedented is how it utilises a mix of familiar forms of media in order to create something fresh. In this piece the creative team emulates classic silent films, with a lack of dialogue and monochromatic visuals, but it begins to stylistically differ early on in the narrative as it introduces colour isolation creating a striking image of a bright red apple against the colourless backdrop. There is also a metatextual aspect to the style as later on; the protagonists actually see the dialogue cards and wield them as physical objects to battle with.
The plot itself seems to follow a humorous blend of real life, biblical, and cultural events – mixing the story of Adam and Eve with a comical rivalry between Steve Jobs and Sir Isaac Newton, both of whom have strong historical ties to an apple.
With a silent film, a lot of the entertainment value rides on the music that is laid on top of it. Flint Steppenrock does a fantastic job of scoring this piece, always tailoring each track to the beats of the unfolding farce, and crescendoing in an epic piece befitting of the battle taking place. Although not the typical style for a silent film, this divergence from tradition works in the film’s favour.
With minimal set and costume design, one might think that this would limit the craft, but for a surreal project like this it lends itself very well to the aesthetic. However, I feel there are some unusual moments that take the audience out of the experience, such as a moment mid-way through the film set in the clouds against a green screen backdrop. Given the hands-on approach to the rest of the film, this feels jarringly out of place and could easily have benefitted from a practical set.
Ultimately, with its focus on absurdism, humorous tone, and charming melodramatic performances – The Applecalypse is a refreshing change of pace and truly succeeds in establishing a unique style. Minh Ngô is an artist worth keeping an eye on, and I cannot wait to see what he creates next.
Back of the Net
Executive produced by award-winning football journalist and historian, Jean Williams, this short sports drama was directed by Klara Kaliger, written by Ella Dorman-Gajic and starring herself, Maureen Casey, Lucy Jane Rae, Muki Zubis and Emmy-nominated Tom Goodman-Hill.
The story follows Maya (Dorman-Gajic), a youngster who is a dedicated footballer and lives with her grandmother, Maggie (Casey). One day, she and her teammates are informed by their coach, Sam (Zubis) that a scout will be attending their next game and some of them might get picked for trials. Excited by the news, Maya works hard in order to get ready for the big day, while simultaneously trying to take good care of granny.
In certain ways, this film has two storylines: as Maya struggles to balance her athletic aspirations with her home life, the narrative develops two plots, each with its own conflicts. On the football field, Maya's trainer is frustrated by her constant lateness at training sessions, while at home, Maya maintains a loving relationship with her grandmother, who appears to be suffering from dementia, and tries hard to look after her, yet, even there she is unable to be punctual, much to the dissatisfaction of her sister, Connie (Rae), who works as a carer. On top of all this, poor Maya also has an unreliable father (Goodman-Hill). Plenty of drama and conflict take place, along with a tense climax.
As expected, since this is a story that involves football, there are plenty of scenes of characters engaging in this sport and they are well-filmed, especially during the montage sequences. The music stands out, with composer Dominic Roocroft creating interesting melodies that include sounds resembling clapping.
Dorman-Gajic leads the film well and her role goes through significant character development. Maya is a well-meaning person dreams of becoming a professional footballer and she finds herself torn between achieving that and being loyal to supporting her family. Both Sam and Connie have roles that are quite similar, as each of them plays a character that tries to encourage Maya to be more responsible, whether as a strict instructor or as an overworked sibling. Casey is quite dramatic as an elderly woman and former footballer who is probably suffering from dementia and has a mental health that is gradually deteriorating.
Having a passion plays a key part in this story, having a passion for football and a passion for sports in general. The screenplay also acknowldges the significance of support and understanding priorities and responsibilities. Maya's dad represents negligence, a self-centered and irresposible man who refuses to acknowledge other people's needs. The film ends with an inspirational quote by English professional footballer, Leah Williamson and with this in mind and the fact that the main character is a young woman attempting to make it big in football, a sport populated primarily by men, it could be argued that this film promotes feminism. Furthermore, it could be said that this story is anti-male to a degree, as Maya's father is the sole male character and the only one who is presented as having only negative features, most notably irresponsibility.
A sports drama and a family drama. A moving film that encourages people to pursue aspirations and be reliable and supportive.
Dear Mum
A young boy tries to do something for his mum, but everything that he tries ends in disaster.
Dear Mum opens with a young boy getting out of bed with his ugly little scratchy-haired dog companion sticking by his side. Mum is already downstairs working from home on her laptop, with her headphones on and microphone wrapped around her head, unable to offer her son the time and attention that he seems to need.
First of all, he tries to grab the pen that his mum has been using, only for her to pull it back off him and tell him, ‘No’. Then he goes out to the garden to get something off one of the bushes, trailing mud back in behind him all over the floor, and then finally he’s into one of the top cupboards where he spills pasta all over the place after reaching too far. All the while his little four-legged friend watches him going to-and-fro, unable to understand, much like us, just what on earth is going on during this fateful morning.
At just over a minute-and-a-half long, Dear Mum is trying to tell its story and send its message in a very short space of time. There’s no dialogue to hear of in the short, and Mum’s ‘No’ is only mouthed for us to see while a whiny indie tune repeating the same four words, ‘You Are The Reason’, is played over the top of the images. There are no credits to the film and there’s no real indication as to what the whole thing was for in the first place.
Obviously, everything comes good in the end, and the mother figures out what the boy was up to all along, as they hug and share their love for each other. This gives the short film the feeling of an advertisement, with its extremely short runtime and overbearing song playing into this stylising of the video, offering us nothing other than a schmalzy single window into an otherwise unknown set of circumstances.
Seemingly aiming for something like the John Lewis Christmas adverts, Dear Mum tells its story and wraps things up within the space of a song, trying to give us all the feels without hinting at anything else in the outside world. Unfortunately, the dizzy heights of John Lewis are never reached, and even though we’re basically expecting some company or product name to be emblazoned across the screen at the end of the film, we’re left with a banal aphorism and a lack of understanding about what it was all for.
Dear Mum ends up not being a real film, but an advert for something that isn’t even made clear. It doesn’t have the emotional level of some of the adverts that we see on telly every day, and when it can’t even reach that level, we understand that it’s just a clichéd situation, repeated a million times before, designed to tug at the heart-strings and pull on our base emotions. Really this is a marketing production, which in fairness is well filmed and produced, but which lacks a product or a message. Yes, we should all love and appreciate our mothers, but do we really need an advert to tell us that?
Pointless.
Aberration: Deja Reve
“Deja Reve” is best described as the profound sensation that a current waking experience mirrors a memory that one has already lived. The film ‘Aberration: Deja Reve’ follows a young scientist, Chase, on the verge of a breakthrough in creating a medication that allows you to relive old memories in this bold science-fiction fever dream by Rocko Paolo.
The opening sequence features frantic camera movements, instantly instilling a sense of unease. This feeling is further emphasised by Chase, played by actress Rachel Stone, and her unrestful physicality. Commendations should be given to Stone for carrying the majority of this film’s runtime on her back single handedly, delivering an energetic performance as her character spirals into an addiction instigated madness. However, the acting in this piece is at its peak when she is joined by scene partner Rocko Paulo. The two constantly interrupt and talk over each other, giving their conversation an earnest sense of reality which really adds to the immersion of the performances. It is a great creative decision then, that cinematographer Alexander Joseph allows the camera to linger on the performances for long periods of time rather than cutting to other angles, in a mature and understated choice that elevates the material.
From a writing perspective the story releases its exposition slowly, drip feeding the audience information over its sixteen minute runtime, keeping the audience engaged as we get our head around the fantastical concept.
In the dream sequences of this film, Paulo utilises a very obvious green screen. Where this might be out of place and distracting in any other piece of media – in this case it perfectly adds a sense of uncanny valley to these montages that really lends to the core dreamlike conceit of the film.
Despite its imaginative concept, this piece is not without its flaws. The distracting colour grading and often-times overwhelming sound design certainly causes a disconnect with the narrative, with shots that seem carelessly composed in post-production and sound that is either too quiet or abrasive in any given moment. Due to this, audiences may find it difficult to suspend their disbelief. Thematically the story initially seems to set out to tell a fascinating tale about the dangers of obsessive nostalgia, but is then watered down when Miles implies the existence of parallel universes which further confuses the commentary.
With a fascinating concept at its core, ‘Aberration: Deja Reve’ features hints of genius in its storytelling, performances and cinematography but is bogged down by a lack of narrative focus and need for a sharper edit.
Concerto for Humanity
Concerto for Humanity is a maximalist piece of archival documentary filmmaking. Directed with an unwavering social confidence by Stacey Stone (who is also the film’s editor – a logical dual-role since this project is almost purely a work of editorial contexts working in tandem with music and the spoken word). The setup is an immediately transfixing one: what if we placed 16mm footage from the 1930s alongside contemporary digital imagery; or, as the voiceover puts it, what if this individual with the black-and-white camera woke up in today’s world? What kind of world would he see? This movie answers that question through unrelenting means and to an unambiguously grim result. It’s a work of the avant-garde, made by an artist who refuses to let the audience off easy. We’re made to sit through some horrific things during the twelve-minute runtime. Although it leaves one with some questions regarding the project’s overall statement – not in terms of what it’s showing us and the very obvious implications of the editing, but more whether these images will continue to engage the mind of the viewer after the film is over. How open-ended and explorative actually is this piece of video-journalism?
From beginning to end, what the audience is exposed to is deeply powerful. And the entire experiment is, in many ways, a success when you consider the fact that the images gather further meaning – often more upsetting meaning – when positioned in conjunction with this lovely 30s footage – even when the 30s footage is also depicting something negative. In terms of the modern, the AI content is utterly stomach-turning in a manner which is intentional and confrontational, and it doesn’t get more harrowing than captured moments of police brutality and war. What unfortunately lets these visual aspects down, though, is the decision to include expository voiceover in the film. That’s by no means an indictment of the vocal performance by Colin Cassidy (which is strong), but more an observation that the images would hold a great deal more potency if they were left to their own wordless faculties.
Thus, to answer the question I posed earlier in this review: explorative – very. Open-ended – absolutely not. The individuals who produced this movie surely meant for the messaging’s solidity. And the intention to depict our world in all its ugly detail is always an admirable one (and something that the moving image does better than any other form of media). However, the fact remains that these ideas perhaps lack nuance; the implicit and purely visual quality that would elevate Concerto for Humanity to the artistically transcendent heights that the title may lead the viewer to anticipate. But it’s a documentary that evokes such masterworks as Koyaanisqatsi – especially when you realise that the music featured was written specifically for the film (by Larry Tuttle), much like Philip Glass’ instantly iconic compositions for the 1982 experimental classic. To witness something so unashamedly provocative is always an exciting experience for a critic. And despite my misgivings, the editorial and political ambition makes this a positive contribution to both the documentary and art film scene.
Lennington Evening-Blooming Cellar
The writer of this review recently had the privilege of reviewing a music video by British band Blooming Cellar, which was titled Tuesday and was a pleasant viewing. This one is even better.
Like the Tuesday video, Lennington Evening consists of black-and-white animation accompanied by a song.
Let's begin with the visuals. Viewing this music video feels almost like experiencing a slide show or reading a comic book. From start to finish a series of cartoon-style drawings are shown one after the other and they more or less tell a story about being a writer. What is seen in the drawings then? Well, first, there is a main character, a young writer and he is shown working hard on his typewriter, papers everywhere and he seems to be struggling with alcohol. Evidently, he meets a nice, young woman. The setting? Judging from the buildings, this seems to be New York City. Maybe the nineteen-fifties. Tall buildings. Airplanes. Civilisation. Reality appears to blend with imagination as flowers (gigantic flowers) emerge from the roads and take over buildings and countless of typewriter papers turn into paper planes, flying over nature and through space. There is brief animation that includes colours, which consists of images that resemble nineteen-fifties postcards.
And now the audio, or should we say ''the song'', which was written in 1996, in London. Superb vocals, dynamic guitars and tense drums create a sort of rock song that is a joy to listen to. The melodies and words generate emotions concerning nostalgia, hardship and romance.
So what is this about then? What messages are communicated here? As mentioned above (and as the drawings demonstrate) this is a project about being a writer, the struggles of being a writer, dealing with alcohol addiction and finding a partner. Moreover, the enormous flowers breaking through the ground and covering buildings might represent nature taking over civilisation, nature reclaiming its territory.
Viewers can appreciate this four-minute-long music video via a number of ways, be it the impressive animation, the enjoyable song or the themes. Or, maybe all these together, why not? Overall, this short takes people on a dramatic, romantic and fantastical journey.
Between Breath & Silence
Thomas Sargeant’s personal and true-life inspired short Between Breath & Silence explores grief and loss in relationships that have strained. It is a touching, at times difficult watch that holds a mirror to the audience’s own relations with family, and matches the emotional weight with complexity to result in a worthy and considered reflection on anguish.
Tom (Thomas Sargeant) returns home after receiving news that his dad Paul (Graeme Hawley) has been hospitalised with a serious illness. Tom’s hesitancy about returning originates from years of tension with both his dad and brother Ryan (Sam Retford), whose issues go unstated. However, Tom’s hesitancy at including his boyfriend Matt (Kris Mochrie) in proceedings suggest sexuality has something to do with it. As his prognosis becomes terminal, Tom knows this moment may be the last chance he has to repair bridges.
Between Breath & Silence is a small-scale yet intense short film that seeks to challenge its viewers with imperfect families and circumstances that demand grace and forgiveness to navigate. Presented with devastating news, Tom is forced to re-submerge in a difficult family dynamic that he had distanced himself from. Tom Sargeant’s understated scripting of his characters ensures the audience unravel these dynamics slowly, and is trusted to read between the lines to identify the sources of strife between the cast. This accomplishment is even more impressive considering the true-life inspiration of the story, and his ability to make each character believable and empathetic even when they carry deep flaws. Director Nicole Pott also captures the quiet, mournful atmosphere with a patient style that lets awkwardness, emotion and unspoken words linger.
Viewers are forced to think more deeply about the characters due to the depth that each main cast member imbues. We meet Tom in a difficult moment – one where he is confronted with a stark choice between repairing family relationships and endangering his romantic one by showing more grace than might be deserved to those who disapprove of him. Graeme Hawley’s Paul is a similarly humble father in the face of his own mortality – yet viewers are also asked to see the pain that both he and Kris Mochrie’s Matt have caused due to suggested prejudice. Where such dynamics could easily lead to melodrama or overperformance, the cast understands that the quiet and unsaid works much more effectively at getting across the problems the family has in the context of the moment, and means the ultimate outpouring of emotion when it arrives is all the more effective.
Add to this that the film looks great in its smaller scale framing, and the result is a really well-rounded personal short. The discomforting ambiance of Paul’s hospital room almost demands that characters restrain their true feelings, causing a notable tension to build in the viewer as slight but unconventional camera framing draws us in close to a family’s inner turmoil. The contrast between the softness of lighting when Tom is outside of his family and the darker tones that emerge when he is surrounded is also a noticeable move that shifts as bonds are altered.
The success of Between Breath & Silence comes from the slight touch of its writer/star and director who understand that the power of such short films come from characters who are relatable, empathetic and well developed. It is a great testament to Tom Sargeant’s ability as a writer to bear such a personal story as well as he does here, and his story will move people regardless of whether they can fully relate to it or not.
Wolfenstein: Legacy Of Defiance
In an alternate timeline where the Nazis won the Second World War (yawn) two adversaries sit down opposite each other at a table to talk about who the biggest ‘Billy Big Bollocks’ is, as they desperately try to play their one-upmanship on just who is getting out of that room alive.
Based on the long running video game series, Wolfenstein, this first episode in what is to be a web-series, Legacy Of Defiance, throws us into a world where something unknown (to us) happened which allowed the Nazis to win WWII. William ‘B.J.’ Blazkowicz (Liebowitz) has been captured and has been brought before Ken Von Hermann (Smith) to suffer his fate, but of course, not before the nasty Nazi gets to play the Bond villain in teasing and torturing his prey before the final twist of the knife. At least one of these characters has been brought directly from the games and therefore cannot be attributed to the writer/director, while the other appears to be an amalgam of stock Nazi enemies. Both of these characters, however, are the most basic, bland, stereotypical, and useless caricatures of video game heroes/villains, with no depth or saving grace to their background or development.
As the two sit in the deeply darkened room opposite each other, we see that B.J. is wounded and bleeding, while Von Hermann is dolled up in his starched uniform and sitting himself down to tea. This is apparently London in 1964, but actually it’s just a table in the dark, and there is no sense of anything beyond the blackness of the room, not even the two guards who are apparently there but we don’t see until they come forward at Hermann’s command. The Nazi goes about his usual soliloquising business while B.J., and us, are forced to listen to his inane ramblings. Without any inkling of the games or the backstory that surrounds them, we too are in the dark as to what’s going on, as the horribly bad dialogue offers us only snippets of history that reveal nothing about how the situation came to be or any detail as to how the war was won.
We are then introduced to the fact that in 1964 there’s somehow mobile communications technology, and not just that, but mobile holographic communications technology, that never gets explained away either, we just have to have played the games and know it, or take it as it is without questioning it. This is an indication of how poor the writing is and how as viewers we are just left to flounder in the dark while some fan gets to indulge his pubescent fantasies and offer lip-service to the games that shaped his formative years. This fan-made film is an entire homage to those games, stealing their ideas and characters, but offering nothing cinematically or narratively to push the franchise forward, or to bring new fans into the fold by expanding the universe into new media. The fact that Blazkowicz can somehow survive five shivs to the sides and what sounds like the ripping out of a kidney, is probably all testament to the character in the game, too, but when put into the first episode of a filmed series with no explanation it just comes across as grossly stupid.
To say that the conclusion of this episode is then beyond belief, would be an horrendous understatement. The switching around of the situation and the level of control makes absolutely no sense at all, and the final stand-off is unshakably poor in how it plays out. If the head Nazi who was going to take over the world and ‘rebuild the Empire’ can’t even shoot one guy, then what even were we doing here in the first place trying to understand this turgid monstrosity. There is absolutely no saving grace in the writing or playing out of Wolfenstein: Legacy Of Defiance and it should be avoided by everyone at all costs, apart from those who childishly believe that Nazi killing is the be-all and end-all of good, honest fun. If you really want to see Nazis getting killed then go and play the games instead. They were really bad, too, but you might actually get some feeling from that which isn’t utter betrayal and disappointment.
This Conversation Has Been Removed
This Conversation Has Been Removed is a contemporary silent comedy centring on themes of a lack of communication in modern society. The short piece follows Jill (Stevie Martin) and Peter (Simon Ashe Browne) in a heated dispute online as they learn just how wrong “making it personal” can go. The experience entirely depends on the online conversation between the two central characters and utilises unique framing devices such as visual storytelling to convey its themes and message.
One of the most impressive aspects of the short piece is its wholly unique concept, which explores the ways we communicate daily and the ways we don't. In particular, the use of visual storytelling works well with the lack of dialogue and the need for technology that individuals frequently crave. It's an incredibly bold and riveting creative decision to have the piece entirely rest on a lack of dialogue and a singular online dispute between two individuals to anchor the narrative’s driving force. The pacing is electrifying thanks to the incredibly brisk runtime that gets straight to the central idea of the narrative, and doesn’t let up until the credits roll. While the pacing and tight runtime are commendable, they also serve as a detriment to the piece, as the themes and ideas are only explored at a surface level.
The ideas of how we communicate are incredibly apt in this modern era of technology; however, the piece isn't given enough time to explore in depth how they've impacted many individuals. This is potentially due to the filmmakers wanting to focus entirely on the heated online discussion between Jill and Peter; however, a more in-depth approach to these topics could’ve been far more memorable. That being said, the social satire aspect of the piece is incredibly well executed, and viewers may instantly connect with these elements. The comedic and dramatic elements are balanced aptly without the tonal shifts ever feeling jarring. Another apt formal decision is the complete lack of exposition, with the audience instantly thrust into the dispute between Jill and Peter with no context.
Patrick Jordan, serving as the film's cinematographer, primarily frames both central characters with close-ups of their facial expressions or phones to give the viewer a sense of the characters' dispute and online political discourse emerging around them. The plethora of composers, including David Anthony Curley, Dylan Lynch and James Tebbitt, deliver an anxiety-inducing musical score with engaging motifs that effectively build tension during moments of conflict. Each technical element soars, and it's a testament to the talent in front of and behind the camera.
Both central performances from Stevie Martin and Simon Ashe Browne, in their portrayals of Jill and Peter, respectively, are incredibly nuanced and impressive. They convey so much with their facial expressions alone, and it's undoubtedly riveting due to the lack of dialogue, as their performances entirely rest on their reactions to the text.
While the conclusion to the narrative wraps up abruptly, the execution of the ending is profoundly clever and ties in with the central themes of the piece. Despite only exploring the concept at a surface level, the piece is almost always engaging thanks to its terrific technical elements.
This Conversation Has Been Removed is an engaging attempt at a modern silent comedy that explores topical ideas in this current era of technology and online discourse. While it may suffer from not exploring its ideas in-depth, the two central performances and formal elements work profoundly in its favour.