Highlights from the 2024 Hollyshorts Film Festival
by William J. Hammon ( ActuallyPaid.com)
The Hollyshorts Film Festival, one of the premiere events for short films in the nation, held its milestone 20th edition this month. Over 300 projects vied for attention and prizes, including eligibility for next year’s Academy Awards for the ultimate winners. Over the course of 10 days, I was able to take in 70 of these hopefuls, which ran the gamut of quality and touched on just about every genre out there. When it was all said and done, these are the five films that I felt stood tallest.
The Grievance
Directed by Richie Keen (known for his work on It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia) and co-written by renowned sitcom writers Andy Gordon and Carol Leifer, The Grievance is the result of an idea developed from the picket lines of the SAG and WGA strikes last year. As the major sticking point of both work stoppages was the potential use of artificial intelligence as a replacement for union workers, these brilliant minds took that possibility to one of its absurd — and yet reasonably predictable — extremes.
The film stars Kevin Pollak as Buzz, the head writer on a sitcom. He’s called into Human Resources for a mediation by Louise, played by Rosie O’Donnell. At issue is a complaint from Miloff (Adhir Kalyan), a studio-mandated android on the writing staff. Miloff is sick and tired — or as sick and tired as an emotionless machine can be — of being treated differently by his human counterparts, and insists that they stop implying that he doesn’t belong.
The comedic irony on display is fantastic, driven home by the excellent performances, particularly from Pollak. This idiocy is one of the possible endgames if the studios had gotten their way. As Buzz angrily notes, AI (at least as it stands now) is incapable of coming up with an original and funny idea. All it can do — as Miloff repeatedly demonstrates — is crib from other sources and amalgamate them into a cheap replica. An android can’t know comedy because it can’t feel comedy, only mimic it. It is unable to absorb life experience, only observe it with pre-programmed detachment. The only emotion Miloff appears able to feel is indignation, taking offense at being treated differently.
That’s the genius of this short. Not only does it air the very relevant problems with the entertainment industry’s desire to cut corners for profit, but it shows just how disposable even our future robot masters will become. The “Human” element of “Human Resources” is denigrated for the sake of profit, knowing that even if the powers that be get their way, all they’ll have is a watered down product that can never be truly accepted. If this is what they want, this is what they’ll get, and we’ll all be worse off for it. The fact that all of this is conveyed in hilarious fashion makes The Grievance brilliant while showing how laughable the very notion of AI-generated content is.
Under the Black Hole
Coming to us from China, Under the Black Hole is an excellent visual representation of the dangers of homogeneity and forced conformity. In what appears to be Shanghai, a black hole has appeared in the sky, and has been growing rapidly ever since. It’s not sucking anything in with a massive gravitational force, simply expanding its mass.
The government, quick to assign blame and overreact, has decided that round objects must be the cause of this, and institutes a martial law where everyone is forced to give up or destroy anything circular or spherical. Ordinary citizens are ostracized for wearing bracelets and earrings, as propaganda has smeared them as selfish and rebellious, while bureaucrats and functionaries like our main protagonist spend their days stamping out anything that might be incurring the wrath of the hole.
The animation here is spectacular, making great use of curved angular shapes, like the main character’s head, which is box-shaped except for rounded corners. Watching his ever-growing paranoia is amazing, because as we see, just about anything could be interpreted as a dangerous roundness, be it a pocket watch, a button on a remote control, the very crossed-out circles distributed in a mass leaflet campaign by the government, and even the character’s own eyes. The lengths that the film goes to in order to show just how far someone would go to delude themselves that they can see the light in the darkness is some visual poetry on another level.
The Queen’s Flowers
One of the more shameful chapters in American history — one rarely taught in our schools — is the true story of how Hawaii became U.S. territory, and eventually the 50th state. It involves the forced abdication of the Hawaiian royal family, a sad moment that went a long way towards killing the native culture.
In a sweet and heartfelt attempt to teach this truth while still focusing on beauty and hope, writer-director Ciara Lacy gives us The Queen’s Flowers, a lovely bit of animation about a special encounter between a young girl and the last monarch of Hawaii, Queen Lili’uokalani.
Emma lives in a strict Catholic girls’ school, where she is seen as something of a troublemaker for sneaking out of bed after curfew. She observes the aging former queen in her garden next door, admiring the flowers and the monarch butterflies who feed off them. When her class is ordered to make gifts for the queen’s birthday, Emma can think of only one thing, but it requires breaking even more rules.
I absolutely adore the color scheme on this, contrasting very bright whites and yellows with tame, soothing blues. Emma is a fully-realized character without ever having to say a single word (it’s amazing how some of the best animated shorts are silent). Her reverence for Lili’uokalani is a mixture of regal respect and just admiration for a kind neighbor who used to be everyone’s matriarch.
Films like The Queen’s Flowers are often among my favorites, because they convey simple messages that still set children’s imaginations soaring. In an age where certain parts of the country are going out of their way to suppress the teaching of histories that might make them “uncomfortable,” it’s perfect to have a short like this to at least let the kids watching decide if they want to learn more.
Bob’s Funeral
My favorite documentary at this year’s festival is the somewhat sardonic Bob’s Funeral, directed by Jack Dunphy. Growing up in a family of brutally honest shit-talkers who’ll do anything to get a laughing rise out of one another, Dunphy mixes home video footage with clever animation to tell parallel stories about generational trauma and forgiveness.
As he rides to the funeral of his grandfather, Jack takes stock of the estrangement in his extended clan. For all the fun he and his immediate kin have with one another, there’s a whole other segment that has distanced themselves after a falling out with Jack’s father. Jack uses his camera in an attempt to get anyone to say something about the seemingly stoic and humorless Bob, but can make almost no headway.
Dunphy explores his own upbringing in hilarious ways, noting his father’s, ahem, “endowment” as compared to his own, but counterbalancing that with tales of his dad’s shortcomings, particularly the use of corporal punishment, a trait inherited from Bob. The ultimate goal is to show what a loving family looks like versus one that has no affection, as tragic circumstances force a direct comparison when it comes to who shows — and who doesn’t — when loved ones pass away. This is one of the most intimate and sneakily hysterical examples of emotional honesty you’re liable to see for a while, so check it out if you get the chance.
4th Dementia
Directed by Ian Wexler and co-written by his comedy troupe, Dinner for One, 4th Dementia is a tricky comedy that has to walk a very fine tightrope in order to get its point and humor across without backsliding into bad taste. Thankfully, they pull off the deed quite admirably, making a film that’s equal parts silly and emotionally devastating, but still cathartic for those who deal with the central issue.
Caroline Aaron gives the best performance I saw in the entire festival as Nellie, an Alzheimer’s patient living in a nursing home. On her birthday, her family visits, but it’s clear that Nellie isn’t all there, only slightly lucid and telling stories that the rest of the group claim never happened, including the story of her own wedding.
Before things can get too uncomfortable, however, Nellie blinks and finds herself in a completely different environment. The cast around her has completely changed, as have the decorations in her room. With crisp editing and whiplash dramatic timing, Nellie finds herself in alternate versions of her own birthday party, performing in a film directed by her grandson, and even acting as the head of a Hasidic crime family.
Without an extreme amount of narrative and performative discipline, this whole affair could have turned out to be little more than a series of improv comedy scenarios put to film. Instead, Aaron’s presence demands that the subject matter be treated with due respect and seriousness intercut with the abject silliness on display. It certainly hit home for me, as watching my mother deteriorate from dementia contained several of these moments where she would pass in and out of reality, making us all wonder what she was able to think and remember in those gaps. 4th Dementia gives us a funny yet profound guess, and I’m grateful for it.
Originally published at http://behindtherabbitproductions.wordpress.com on August 26, 2024.
