Production Diary: La Ricotta (Pier Paolo Pasolini, 1962)

La Ricotta (Pier Paolo Pasolini, 1962) is a 35-minute Italian short film starring the acclaimed Orson Welles, who plays the director (an exaggerated impersonation of Pasolini himself) of a production of the Passion of Jesus. The main character, however, is Stracci – a penurious and starving extra on the set of the film. After attempting to scavenge the set for food, Stracci eventually finds a bountiful amount of ricotta cheese that he immediately gorges on. This turns out to be a fatal mistake, as Stracci tragically but ironically dies on the set while being ‘crucified’.

The film’s primary objective is to serve as a social commentary for the marginalisation of the poor. Pasolini believed that the poor were neglected by a society that prided themselves on being Christian. Pasolini’s portrayal of a production of the Passion is his critique of a corrupt society that is merely interested in garnering superficial reputability. This is demonstrated to the viewer through the actors’ disinterest in the production itself and their lazy and tormenting behaviour during their breaks.

Pasolini incorporates a number of techniques throughout the film in order to create meaning. Stracci’s desperation for food is conveyed to the viewer through fast-motion footage of his dire runs for food, this exaggerated physical comedy being reminiscent of Buster Keaton. In addition, the film is shot in black and white for the majority of its runtime and colour is exclusively utilised to display the production of the Passion of Jesus.

The production of the Passion of Christ portrayed throughout La Ricotta (shot in colour)

Due to technical difficulties, I was originally unable to extrapolate any meaning from La Ricotta and thus did not receive any sort of enjoyment from the film. After conducting research, the film’s meaning ultimately demonstrated to me the effectiveness of social commentary within a short film.

Production Diary: Night Fishing (Park Chan-wook, 2011)

Night Fishing (Park Chan-wook, 2011) is a South Korean 33-minute short film of the fantasy/horror genre. The film entails a man who reels the seemingly dead body of a woman during a evening fishing trip. After suddenly rising from the dead, the man and woman symbolically swap clothes, before the fisherman is killed and his spirit enters the woman. Afterwards, the scene starkly changes – we cut to the woman who we can assume is a spirit channeller, rising from a bath. The man speaks to his family using the woman as a vessel, begging his estranged daughter for forgiveness at his own funeral.

The film’s main ‘gimmick’ is the fact that it was shot entirely on an iPhone 4, perhaps Park’s way of displaying the advancement of digital technology throughout the modern age. However, due to this, the film’s resolution is of a low quality and hasn’t particularly aged well. The digital grading employed by Park throughout the film is also highly prolific, with the colours appearing to be overly saturated particularly during the opening sequence. This saturation is later juxtaposed during the ‘night fishing’ scene where the opposite is apparent – colour appears to have been digitally drained from the setting.

The narrative structure of the film is also very convoluted. Although the events seem to play out in chronological order, the sheer nonsensicality of the plot instils an acute sense of disorientation within the viewer, albeit an extremely memorable viewing experience. The non-diegetic composed score featured throughout the film also accentuates the dramatic events on-screen.

Personally, I enjoyed Night Fishing for its highly idiosyncratic means of storytelling but was however slightly disillusioned by the actual events of the narrative. The aforementioned choice by Park to film entirely on an iPhone 4 now seems incredibly gimmicky rather than revolutionary, and the film shows its age in this regard. The film demonstrated to me how an unorthodox narrative structure can disorient the viewer in an effective and meaningful way.

Production Diary: Swimmer (Lynne Ramsay, 2012)

Swimmer (Lynne Ramsay, 2012) is a 16-minute short film that displays an unnamed swimmer’s journey through a series of rural rivers, during which he encounters an array of people in an attempt to reconnect with society.

The film’s narrative is highly ambiguous in nature and does not conform to a cohesive three-act structure. The film immediately makes its most vital priority clear: creating a stunning visual spectacle. The opening POV shot establishes a serene and pensive tone which continues throughout whilst also placing the viewer in the mind of the swimmer. It is at this point that we are also introduced to the slick greyscale grading seen throughout the film. Another key aspect of the aesthetic of Swimmer is Ramsay’s careful consideration of the sun’s reflection onto the water, which is particularly breathtaking in the final scene.

The soundscape primarily consists of the tranquil diegetic sounds of the splashing water in tandem with a juxtaposing non-diegetic compiled score that is evocative of British patriotism. After the titular swimmer is shot by an arrow at the hand of a tribal child, the pace of editing becomes extremely tumultuous which is reflective of the state of mind of the swimmer.

Personally, I did not receive much enjoyment from Swimmer due to its lack of any particular narrative complexity or character development. The stunning visual spectacle was indeed beautiful, but the novelty soon wore off. The film demonstrated to me the effective combination of diegetic and non-diegetic sound used to build up atmosphere.

Production Diary: Pitch Black Heist (John Maclean, 2012)

Pitch Black Heist (John Maclean, 2012) is a 13-minute short film concerning a pair of professional safe crackers who embark on a heist to rob a safe from an office. However, the alarm system immediately kills the lights, obliging the duo to meticulously learn the layout of the room beforehand.

Maclean employs a number of techniques throughout the film in order to create meaning. Choosing to film in black and white symbolises the moral ambiguity of the characters and perhaps places the film as a homage to classic noir crime dramas. The setting of the film is highly authentic and grounded in reality, the only main locations being a warehouse, a pub and the office with the safe. This separates the film from high-octane heist flicks seen within mainstream cinema, and informs the viewer that it should be taken somewhat seriously. The heist itself is filmed entirely in darkness, encouraging the viewer to exclusively direct their focus on the diegetic sounds of both the dialogue and sound.

Throughout the linear three act structure the film utilises, the primary focus that the film attends to is the development between the two main characters, displayed to the viewer during the pub scene. Through an array of humorous jump-cuts which transition between the characters taking part in leisurely activities such as drinking and arm-wrestling, we soon learn that Michael is much more sincere and reserved, whereas Liam is headstrong and often insensitive. The dialogue during these scenes are both snappy and authentic, further adding to the grounded tone that the film adheres to. During this, it is revealed that Michael’s father abandoned him at a young age, which later becomes a vital plot point of the film.

The two characters arm-wrestling, the white backdrop juxtaposes the black and grey clothes worn by the pair

The ending of the film is rather ambiguous, during which Michael purposefully activates the alarm by lighting a cigarette. I believe the implied meaning to be that Liam is in fact Michael’s dad that abandoned him and Michael leaving him to be caught by the police is his enactment of revenge. This shocking twist allows for an unexpectedly dramatic resolution to the film and releases the tension created by the two minutes of darkness prior.

Personally, I enjoyed Pitch Black Heist to a relative extent. I particularly appreciated the grounded tone and authentic dialogue that the film had to offer. However, I believe that the plot itself was relatively disengaging until the final scene and also found the characters to be relatively uninteresting. The film demonstrated to me how shooting in complete darkness can both save time for the filmmaker and force the viewer to direct their attention exclusively on the soundscape.

Production Diary: La Jetée (Chris Marker, 1962)

Le Jetée (Chris Marker, 1962) is a 28-minute French science fiction short film. Made up almost entirely from still images, the film tells the story of a dystopian experiment involving time travel after the events of a nuclear war. Within the film, a man is assigned to delve into his past, honing in on a vague memory of a woman the protagonist briefly spotted on a jetty, before witnessing an ambiguously horrific incident. Romantic chemistry develops between the man and the woman during his time in the past, after which he is sent into the future to receive a power unit that should be used to revitalise his present-day society. After the mission is complete, the man attempts to return to the past in an attempt to locate the woman again, before realising that the horrific event he witnessed as a child was in fact his own death.

As previously mentioned, the film is constructed almost entirely from optically printed photos, sequenced together as a photo montage. Alongside this, the only dialogue heard throughout the film is voice-over narration from the protagonist, allowing the viewer to empathise with his experiences and provide expository information. The non-diegetic composed score featured throughout the film is rhythmically sequenced, an example being when the score matches a dissolve effect. Marker’s apt use of non-diegetic sound further conveys a sense of movement throughout the film that is not present on-screen.

Due to the photomontage style of filmmaking employed by Marker, the editing of the film is profoundly stylistic and further supplements the eerie dystopian setting of the film. Marker’s implementation of cut-ins and fade-outs throughout illustrates a sense of unease and uncertainty, enhancing the sci-fi genre that the film adheres to. The film’s twist ending is equally shocking and satisfying, offering a palatable resolution to the narrative.

Personally, I enjoyed Le Jetée for the unique manner of storytelling it offered, and was enamoured by the unsettling dystopia of a post WW3 scenario. The black and white film stock utilised by Marker throughout the film further enhances the unsettling atmosphere created. The film demonstrated to me how still images can be used as an effective means of storytelling.

The unnamed protagonist delving into his past

Production Diary: The Grandmother (David Lynch, 1970)

The Grandmother (David Lynch, 1970) is 33-minute short film, being one of the very first films by visionary director David Lynch. Typical of Lynch’s work, the film is highly abstract and expressive throughout the portrayal of its narrative, depicting the struggles of a young boy living in an abusive household. Utilising a combination of live action and animation produced by Lynch himself, the boy is displayed ‘growing’ a grandmother from a mysterious pack of seeds he finds.

Throughout the film, Lynch employs a wide variety of techniques in order to create a chillingly eerie experience. The setting is highly minimalistic, merely depicting bedrooms and a dining room that exist in an abyss-like realm. Lynch implements the use of high contrast lighting, which works in tandem with the makeup applied to both the boy and the grandmother – the two characters appear to be reminiscent of a ghost through the use of pale makeup.

Pale makeup is applied to both the boy and the grandmother

Other uses of mise-en-scène include the strangely placed and conveniently labelled bag of seeds, alongside the cocoon-like plant from which the grandmother is born – permeating a sense of uncanny hyperbole. The soundscape is mostly non-diegetic, with the use of dissonant screeches and peculiar booming ambience utilised throughout to build atmosphere. The only diegetic sound heard throughout the film is the unintelligible screams of the parents towards their son.

Another highly expressive element of the film is the editing, which strikingly appears to be sequenced frame-by-frame at specific points in the film. Alongside the stilted one dimensional performances by each actor, this creates an extremely unnerving sense of dread throughout the film.

Personally, I relatively enjoyed The Grandmother for what it had to offer: a highly experimental experience that instils an acute sense of unease in the viewer. It is clear that this is the work of a young, untamed David Lynch. The film demonstrated to me the effectiveness of highly expressive and exaggerated mise-en-scène, used to elicit a particular meaning.

Production Diary: Curfew (Shawn Christensen, 2012)

Curfew (Shawn Christensen, 2012) is an Oscar-winning 19-minute short film about a suicidal man, Richie, who is asked by his estranged sister to look after his niece, Sophia, for the evening. Over the course of the film, the bond between the two characters grows and develops in many interesting ways. We learn that the reason that Richie has not seen Sophia since she was a baby is due to the fact that he dropped her on her head whilst taking care of her, leading to an important moment of development between the pair. After the day is over, Richie drops Sophia off at his sister’s house and returns home to commit suicide. However, the film ends with Richie being interrupted by another phone call from his sister on much nicer terms, requesting him once again to look after Sophia.

The film priorities narrative and character above all us, with Christensen utilising a simple three-act structure as well as a linear narrative throughout the film. The film could be classified under the ‘drama’ genre, meaning it doesn’t not have to conform to any particular conventions. The narrative could be argued as cyclical due to the film being bookended with scenes of Richie committing suicide in the bath. Despite this, Christensen also manages to successfully create an aesthetically pleasing experience, utilising the key elements of film form throughout.

For example, the film aptly incorporates colour in symbolically meaningful ways. Red is used as a symbol of Richie’s suicide, and can be seen within the bloodstained bath as well as the phone from which he receives the call from his sister. Conversely, blue is prominently displayed in the bowling alley scene with Sophia which suggests that both characters feel safe and have trust in one another. A shallow depth of field and artificial lighting both accentuate the dreamlike sense of wonder the pair experiences in each other’s presence. The film also features a particularly standout dance sequence that is in fact merely a hallucination of Richie’s mind. Throughout this, Christensen employs the use of a spinning camera, displaying Richie’s hallucinatory state of mind as well as a crab shot to follow Sophia dancing down the bowling alley. Christensen’s use of unorthodox techniques sets the scene apart from the rest of the film, alongside the use of a particularly dreamy composed score written by himself.

Christensen’s use of mise-en-scène throughout the film is also worthy of acclaim. Concerning costume design, Richie’s extremely rugged and dishevelled appearance starkly juxtaposes that of Sophia, who is warmly wrapped up in a large coat and wears a woolly hat. The contrast between the pair’s appearances reinforces the different backgrounds that the two originate from, and is an example of visual storytelling featured throughout the film. Richie is also unshaven and is often seen with a cigarette, further displaying his rough way of life.

One of the final shots of the film perfectly encapsulates Richie’s conflicted state of mind. He is filmed from an upside-down mid-closeup, displaying his defeated and hopeless expression. The red phone handset is also displayed in the frame, informing the viewer that an escape from the trauma is available to him, but at this moment, Richie is choosing to ignore it.

Personally, I thoroughly enjoyed Curfew from start to finish. Christensen incorporated the perfect blend of narrative, character development and aesthetic choices over the course of the film’s 19-minute duration. The performances by the duo are convincingly genuine and the film is also paced brilliantly. The film demonstrated to me the importance of colour palettes used in order to symbolise meaning.

Richie and Sophia

Production Diary: High Maintenance (Phillip Van, 2006)

High Maintenance (Phillip Van, 2006) is a 9-minute short film which involves a woman who is unhappy in her current relationship. After a heated argument occurs between the couple over dinner, it is revealed that her husband is in fact a robot when the woman deactivates him by flicking a switch on the back of his neck. The woman then decides to exchange her current model for a new, more ‘desirable’ robot – she selects a new rock climber model that is customised to her preferences. After he arrives, he promptly begins to massage her before the final twist of the film is revealed: the woman is also in fact a robot herself.

Poster

Van utilises a number of interesting techniques in order to make the narrative of the film more engaging. The fact that the woman’s husband is a robot is foreshadowed through the woman’s remark that he is giving her “short, mechanical sex”, which she means literally. Intriguingly, Van also frequently cuts to a closeup of each character, highlighting the scrutiny that is occurring between the couple. The dialogue also seems to be purposefully stilted and robotic, which is yet another example of foreshadowing the final twist.

The film follows a linear structure and could be classified under the genre of sci-fi/romance. Van’s critiques the concept of relationships through the use of an eerily dystopian setting. The unrealistically long table at which the couple sit is representative of their cold and distant relationship. The colour grading is also particularly artificial – Van’s incorporation of industrial greys and blues is symbolic of the dystopian world presented throughout.

Personally, I enjoyed High Maintenance to a particularly ironic extent – I found the stilted acting relatively humorous. The 9-minute duration meant that the film did not overstay its welcome, and final twist of the film worked well enough, despite being somewhat predictable. The film demonstrated to me the effectiveness of a narrative twist in a short film.

Production Diary: A Girl’s Own Story (Jane Campion, 1984)

A Girl’s Own Story (Jane Campion, 1984) is a 27-minute Australian short film which explores the stage of female adolescence during the 1960s. Choosing to film in black and white, Campion displays the narrative by intercutting between multiple storylines. The film takes place in Australia, during the height of Beatlemania, in which two school friends – Pam and Stella – both kiss cutouts of Beatles members. Afterwards, one of the girls wears a mask of Ringo Starr before they practice kissing each other. This is intercut with scenes of another schoolgirl, Gloria, who is coerced by her brother into roleplaying as cats. In addition to this, the film also explores the relationship between Pam’s estranged parents, who use their daughters to communicate with each other.

A Girl’s Own Story immediately establishes the main ideas explored over the duration of the film. The opening scene involves a group of schoolgirls who observe an image of the male anatomy, which is displayed to the viewer through the use of a glance object. This introduces the viewer to the themes of sex and adolescence which are explored throughout. Campion’s decision to film in black and white with a 4:3 aspect ratio aptly reflects the aesthetic of the time period. This is further reinforced through Campion’s carefully selected mise-en-scène – particularly the costume design of the traditional schoolgirl uniform.

Voiceover is also used sparingly throughout the film, allowing the viewer to delve deeper into the minds of the three protagonists. Campion also interestingly chooses to conclude the film with a song that is sung by our three main characters: Pam, Gloria and Stella. Through this, the three girls are able to express their adolescent inner turmoil that is portrayed over the course of the film.

Personally, I did not receive much enjoyment from A Girl’s Own Story and found myself particularly disengaged from the events portrayed onscreen. The characters and themes of the film did not resonate with me, and I found the choice to conclude the film with a song to be somewhat schmaltzy. The film demonstrated to me the effectiveness of parallel narratives throughout a short film.

The three protagonists singing during the final scene

Production Diary: Elephant (Alan Clarke, 1989)

Elephant (Alan Clarke, 1989) is a 39-minute short film set in Northern Ireland, depicting 18 brutal murders during The Troubles. Partly based on authentic police reports, the film contains little to no dialogue and we learn nothing about each of the eighteen gunmen or victims. Each murder is carried out calmly and casually, and the motive behind each is never disclosed – we can only surmise that the murders are religiously motivated, reflecting the violent conflict occurring in Northern Ireland during this period.

One of eighteen murders portrayed throughout the film

Through a variety of techniques, the film creates an eerily chilling atmosphere. It is shot with 16mm film, with the majority of the film being shot with a Steadicam. This, alongside an abundance of Kubrick-esque tracking shots, make the film feel almost like an observational documentary of sorts. Each of the eighteen killings are displayed in a neutral and ‘formulaic’ manner, to the point where the viewer almost feels desensitised to the horrific events being portrayed.

An essential technique employed by Clarke throughout the film is a prolonged static mid-closeup of the lifeless corpse after each murder is committed. This effectively instills a sense of acute trepidation in the viewer, forcing them to possess empathy towards the innocent victim. The film does not conform to any particular genre conventions, and merely attempts to reflect the events of The Troubles.

Although I didn’t particularly receive much enjoyment from Elephant, I appreciated the bleak social commentary of The Troubles that it had to offer. The film also demonstrated to me the effectiveness of prolonged static shots in the way of creating dramatic effect.

Production Diary: The Wrong Trousers (Nick Park, 1993)

The Wrong Trousers (Nick Park, 1993) is a 29-minute stop-motion animated short film which features the iconic duo Wallace and Gromit. The film’s plot entails Wallace letting out a room to a nefarious penguin, who attempts to use Wallace’s new invention, the ‘Techno-Trousers’ in order to steal a diamond from the city museum. Due to this being the second short film in which Wallace and Gromit feature, the film is able to waste no time in introducing the eccentric duo to the viewer. Utilising a linear three act structure and conforming to the conventions of the comedy/action genre, Park successfully creates a heartwarmingly enjoyable short film.

The iconic animated duo, Wallace and Gromit

The key to Wallace and Gromit’s success is the synergistic dichotomy between the duo. Loosely based on Park’s father, Wallace is a humble, good-natured inventor, whereas Gromit is depicted as much more mature, thoughtful and intelligent despite being unable to speak. Through this, the scene where Gromit leaves Wallace after the penguin occupies his room instills a dramatic emotional response in the viewer, exacerbated by a particularly mournful non-diegetic score.

Park creates tension throughout the film using a variety of closeup tracking shots in tandem with the aforementioned orchestral score. For example, during the heist scene, the penguin accidentally drops the diamond. To create tension, Park cuts between a closeup of the diamond and a closeup of the penguin’s alarmed expression, during which the orchestra plays stab chords at strikingly forte dynamics which immediately focuses the viewer’s attention. The POV shot of the penguin edging closer towards Gromit in the box is also particularly tense, due to the filmmaker’s choice to make the penguin’s diegetic footsteps the only sound discernible in the mix.

The style of animation featured throughout the film is also of particular importance. Aardman’s signature ‘clay-mation’ style of stop-motion filmmaking means that each frame of the film is precisely constructed. Due to this, Park is essentially allowed total creative freedom in terms of mise-en-scène – the discernibly metallic texture of the ‘Techno-Trousers’ juxtaposes every other object in the film, reinforcing the fact that it is highly advanced technology. The clay models also allow for Gromit to communicate entirely through gesture and body language.

Personally, I thoroughly enjoyed The Wrong Trousers and possess a bountiful amount of nostalgia for the film. Park’s unique style of animation alongside meaningful character and plot development result in a highly enjoyable short film experience. In my opinion, the film exceeds the likes of When the Day Breaks in terms of what an animated short is able to achieve. The film demonstrated to me the effectiveness of an appropriate score in building atmosphere and tension.

Production Diary: When the Day Breaks (Wendy Tilby and Amanda Forbis, 1999)

When the Day Breaks (Wendy Tilby and Amanda Forbis, 1999) is a 9-minute Canadian short film which depicts the daily lives of two anthropomorphic characters, a rooster and a pig. The two share a brief interaction after the pig accidentally causes a lemon to drop out of the rooster’s shopping, leading to a dramatic car accident.

The pig character

The main attraction to be found within the film is, without a doubt, the animation style. Utilising pencil and paint on photocopies, the filmmakers achieve a distinctive textured style of animation – akin to lithography. Each frame is hand-drawn and is sequenced in stop motion, creating a unique visual spectacle. The filmmakers aptly blend the familiar monotony of everyday life, with a distinctive and evocative aesthetic to form an intriguing viewing experience. The medium of animation allows the film to display objects with incredible detail. At one point, we are presented with the inner-workings of an iron in which the many wires are displayed to us.

During the awkward exchange between the pair, the viewer is able to accurately read the emotion of both characters. Despite the lack of dialogue and discernible human features, annoyance can be clearly surmised in the rooster and embarrassment in the pig respectively, thanks to Tilby and Forbis’ meticulous attention to detail. After the rooster is hit by the car, the smashed groceries on the pavement that are displayed to us are perhaps symbolic of the spontaneous unpredictability that life holds and that nothing lasts forever.

Although I did enjoy the unique visual elements of When the Day Breaks, I found that the core issue that the film suffered from is style over substance. The plot of the film could be described as minimalist at best and serves merely as a display for the animation style, which I personally found somewhat nauseating. The film demonstrated to me the effect that a striking visual spectacle can have on the viewer.

Production Diary: Meshes of the Afternoon (Maya Daren and Alexandr Hackenschmied, 1943)

Meshes of the Afternoon is a 14-minute experimental short film directed by and starring Maya Daren and Alexandr Hackenschmied, a husband and wife duo. The film is highly avant-garde in nature, displaying ambiguous and psychologically stimulating symbols through mise-en-scène, including: flowers, keys, knives and mirrors. The events of the seemingly circular narrative are ultimately left up to the viewer’s own personal interpretation, creating a wholly unique experience.

The grim reaper–esque figure seen throughout the film holding a flower

The film uses a wide variety of visually intriguing editing techniques in order to make the film highly enigmatic throughout. Daren and Hackenschmied manipulate the viewer’s perception of reality and location through the use of match on action. The filmmakers also utilise the early limitations of film in a way that only helps the film flourish. The dark gaps between each frame are accentuated throughout the film, particularly during the staircase scene – cuts of the protagonist are displayed standing at different positions on the stairs, with no apparent movement in between. Through this, the filmmakers have truly demolished all sense of a coherent time and space.

Personally, I really enjoyed Meshes of the Afternoon and was highly engaged in the ambiguous narrative and was fascinated by eerie atmosphere that the film established. The film demonstrated to me that simple editing techniques can be used in an array of creative ways to shape how meaning is conveyed.

Production Diary: Connect (Samuel Abrahams, 2010)

Connect (Samuel Abrahams, 2010) is a 5-minute short film which follows a woman on a bus experiencing a series of imaginary events as she lets her mind run wild whilst immersing herself in music. After daydreaming a man shooting an old woman in order to take her seat, our protagonist forms a brief but powerful connection with another passenger on the bus – holding hands for a brief, but intimate moment. Afterwards, the man gets off the bus and the woman imagines the passengers dancing.

Throughout its extremely short runtime, the film uses a number of interesting techniques in order to convey its message to the viewer. Firstly, blocking and framing is cleverly used in the opening scene of the film as the woman boards the bus – a centrally-framed closeup of the woman is held as a barrage of people storm onto the bus. The other passengers are filmed with a shallow depth of field, creating a sense of claustrophobia.

Colour grading is used to establish a dusk urban setting, with the bus’s artificial lighting representing the harsh way of life the woman is struggling through. During the closeup of the two hands touching, a glimmer of light briefly passes by the lens of the camera – displaying that this is a moment that the two characters will greatly cherish.

The flicker of light as the ‘connection’ occurs

Overall, I enjoyed Connect a considerable amount for what it offered, but I believe that the film’s duration was much too short for it to tell a meaningful plot or convey any particular theme. The film demonstrated to me the effect that closeups and depth of field can have on the viewer.

Production Diary: Stutterer (Benjamin Cleary, 2015)

Stutterer (Benjamin Cleary, 2015) is a 12-minute short film which details the struggles of Greenwood, a reclusive typographer who suffers from a stutter. After talking to a girl for six months over Facebook, she finally decides to invite him to meet in real life as she is visiting London. The film details Greenwood’s anxiety as he attempts to muster up the courage to meet her, whilst also demonstrating the day-to-day social struggles he faces throughout his life.

The protagonist, Greenwood

The viewer is placed deep within Greenwood’s conflicted inner turmoil through the use of thought narration, instilling a strong sense of empathy in the viewer towards the protagonist. This is established immediately through the opening scene of the film, in which Greenwood’s stutter prevents him from discussing his bill over the phone. Cleary uses many centralised closeups of Greenwood to reinforce his position as the protagonist, as well as to display the plaster on his nose after he is involved in a violent conflict. Most of the film’s runtime is dedicated to developing Greenwood’s character, leading to a highly satisfying resolution.

The film follows the typical three act structure and additionally conforms to the typical conventions of a romantic drama. Stutterer prioritises narrative and character development above all else, utilising soft lighting and cinematography throughout. Cleary also incorporates elements of subtle visual storytelling into the film through mise-en-scène, displaying an array of books in Greenwood’s room, including sign language textbooks – reinforcing his introverted and secluded way of life.

Personally, I really enjoyed Stutterer and appreciated the simple but effective story it managed to tell brilliantly in a matter of 12 minutes. Embracing the conventions of the genre, the film aptly conveys themes of isolation and overcoming hardships throughout. The film demonstrated to me the importance of a cohesive three act structure and character development within the narrative of a short film.

Production Diary: About a Girl (Brian Percival, 2001)

About a Girl (Brian Percival, 2001) is a 9-minute short film which follows a girl recounting her childhood as she walks the streets of a grey, industrial Manchester. The nameless girl informs the viewer of her disdainful upbringing in the city, involving the relationship between herself and her divorced parents. We also learn of the girl’s aspirations of forming a pop group with her friends. The film ends with a dramatic shock twist when the girl reveals that she has become “dead good at hiding things” from her mother and tosses the bag she had been carrying the into the river, which is revealed to contain a dead baby.

The opening shot of the film, displaying a silhouette of our protagonist

The film utilises a variety of techniques in order to convey a sense of gritty authenticity to the viewer. The girl’s monologues are interspersed with small snippets of her partaking in the current anecdote she is recalling, providing the viewer with a clear image of her life. The girl also looks straight into the camera as it follows her from the front, addressing the viewer directly and breaking the 4th wall – forming a deeper connection between the girl and the audience. The urban streets are polluted and litter-filled, with monotone colour grading applied to accentuate the poor environment the girl lives in. After the burden of the dead baby is lifted from the girl at the end of the film, a noticeably vibrant colour grading is applied – demonstrating that a weight has been lifted off her shoulders.

In my opinion, the film’s twist purely serves as a brief ‘shock value’ moment, instilling a visceral reaction within the viewer. There is little to no example of foreshadowing prior to the reveal, perhaps due to the short run time of the film. I did not receive much fulfilment after watching About a Girl, but can appreciate the social realism it portrayed throughout. The film demonstrated to me the effect that a surprising twist can have on the viewer.

Production Diary: Wasp (Andrea Arnold, 2003)

Wasp (Andrea Arnold, 2003) is a 26-minute short film about a single mother who prioritises her love life with an old contact over the safety and care of her four young children. Winning the 2004 Oscar for Best Live Action Short Film, Wasp is a poignant social commentary on life within poverty-stricken council estates and the struggles of being a single parent.

Zoe, and her four children

Cinematography is used throughout the film as a subtle means of visual storytelling. Every shot of the film is extremely gritty and authentic – Arnold incorporates an array of uncomfortable closeups throughout, purposefully including obstructive objects within the frame. Through this, a sense of claustrophobia is created, especially during the pub scenes – mirroring Zoe’s hectic lifestyle. In addition to this, the film makes apt use of handheld cameras throughout, which instills further disorientation within the viewer.,

The film is entirely shot on location – a suburban council estate in Dartford – and natural lighting is incorporated throughout to add a further layer of realism to the film. Parallel editing is also utilised by Arnold to display Zoe and Dave in the pub together, while her four hungry children scavenge the streets for food. The performances by each actor, including the children, are highly authentic and believable.

I enjoyed Wasp and was moved by the bleak social realism it offered – it was clearly inspired by Arnold’s life experiences. The film also demonstrated to me the disorienting effect an array of handheld shots can have on the viewer.

Production Diary: The Gunfighter (Eric Kissack, 2014)

The Gunfighter (Eric Kissack, 2014) is a 9-minute short film of a comedy/Western genre. The film revolves around a subversive twist of a stereotypical Western in which the narrator of the film can be heard by each of the characters. The film builds upon this gag in many creative ways, as we soon learn that the narrator is in fact omniscient and knows many humiliating details about each of the characters. The score later becomes diegetic, further breaking the fourth wall in a creative manner. The film results in a traditional Mexican standoff initiated by the narrator.

The titular Gunfighter as he hears the narrator for the first time

Kissack aptly utilises this gag in order to satirise the tropes of a stereotypical Western. He establishes the archetype of this widely overdone genre by carefully selecting an appropriately cliché score, as well as mise-en-scène (including the interior of the saloon and costume design) reminiscent of the genre. Kissack additionally satirises the racist attitudes typically depicted within the Western genre, due to the saloon having a black bartender who is appears to be fully accepted by the characters, which is a detail that the narrator comments on.

The omniscient narrator joke is introduced within the first minute of the film, which demonstrates the concise and pacy nature of the film. Due to this short duration, the one and only gag does not overstay its welcome and the film is over just as the joke becomes old. The final standoff is yet another ridicule of typical Western flicks.

I enjoyed The Gunfighter a considerable amount and it has demonstrated to me how a concise and enjoyable story can be told in a very short amount of time. I did, however, believe that the film’s reliance on the single joke created a very one-dimensional tone.

Production Diary: Component 3 Overview

The third component of the A-Level Film Studies course is a production-based unit worth 30% of the qualification. This entails an entirely independent filmmaking project, involving the creation of a short film with a duration between four and five minutes. The coursework process will be entirely documented in a series of blog posts referred to as the Production Diary, this post being the first of many. The short film must align with one of the four briefs established by the exam board, listed below:

• A narrative which has a distinct genre.
• A narrative which has parallel stories.
• A non-linear narrative.
• A narrator.

The creative process of the making of the short film can be clearly divided into six ‘elements’ of production:

• Element 1 – Research
• Element 2 – Pre-production
• Element 3 – Production
• Element 4 – Post-production
• Element 5 – Evaluative Analysis
• Element 6 – Submission

Research involves the viewing of the Eduqas Short Film Collection, which consists of 18 films that will be viewed in class and will each receive a respective blog post afterwards. During the Evaluative Analysis process, at least three of the 18 films must be credited for imbuing creative inspiration within your own short film.

Pre-production is a lengthy process which occurs after a clear, finalised idea of what the short film will entail has been reached. The mandatory aspects of the pre-production process are listed in bold:

• Production Idea
• Treatment (written in detailed prose, using film-specific language)
• Pitch (filmed verbal delivery of the treatment, followed by discussion)
• Pitch Reflections (subsequent thoughts, audience response, teacher feedback, etc.)
• Action points and preparation possibilities
• Research into screenplay conventions
• Research into storyboarding conventions
• Research into lighting
• Research into equipment – cameras, lenses, etc.
• Location scout
• Casting
• Finalised screenplay, with evidence of drafts and versions
• Filmed rehearsals
• Filmed screenplay read-through
• Storyboards
• Practice shots
• Wardrobe and prop acquisition
• Makeup
• Special effects
• Soundtrack research

Production involves the entire filming process of the film and all aspects of camerawork and editing are assessed. A diverse range of camera shots and editing techniques are encouraged within the production, through the application of the key elements of film form. Performance skills are not assessed.

Post-production is another fairly lengthy process which has the potential to impact the final mark significantly. Through the process of frequent screenings in order to receive invaluable feedback, this process will involve reshoots and rewrites in order to improve the film in the best way possible. New cuts of the film will be edited in LumaFusion.

Evaluative Analysis involves a 1600-1800 word evaluation of the production. It is here that the Eduqas Short Film Collection will be referenced. The evaluative analysis will include:

• The narrative structure of the short film – an analysis of how the narrative features and dramatic qualities of all short films studied are constructed – highlighting key ideas which informed our own production.
• Cinematic influences – an analysis of how audio/visual elements of other professionally produced films or screenplays – including short films -influenced our own short film.
• How our film creates meaning and effect – an analysis of how our production creates meaning and generates responses for the spectator in relation to other professional short films – including at least one of the Eduqas Short Film Collection.

Submission is the final element of the creative process, involving the handing in of three specific documents:

• A cover sheet, completed with the class teacher.
• The final short film itself, uploaded as a .mp4 file.
• The evaluative analysis document, uploaded to the shared OneDrive folder.