
“A breath of fresh air”, goes the Critics’ Week motto. Still, the seven short films in competition this year are all dramas, and don’t leave any easy breathing space. Most gravitate around the same theme of ‘the outcast’, a character who, willingly or not, is judged and convicted by his community. On the other hand, two films deal with a more philosophical issue: people’s ideals as intangible goals.
The social issue of ‘pariahs’ is quite well-covered, including cases of voluntary outcasts. Oleg (Deeper Than Yesterday, by Ariel Kleiman) and Max (The boy who wanted to be a lion, by Alois Di Leo) both intentionally withdraw from the groups they belong to. The first is the only person in the restrained community of a Russian submarine who is doing his best not to lose his humanity and stick to his beliefs. Normal life to Oleg is mostly what Max has, but this boy is not satisfied with it. Being deaf already makes him different, but the moment he sees and hears a lion makes Max want to become one. The film portrays the boy’s struggles with much kindness, an approach that his parents also try initially. Alois Di Leo makes excellent use of sound to reveal Max’s attitude towards his disability: he has begun to almost enjoy the ability to shun everybody when he pleases. The use of sound also conveys why the lion makes such a strong impression on the boy: Max is able to hear his roar load and clear.
In Berik, by Daniel Joseph Borgman, the homonymous character is also confronted with the need of belonging to a community, but he is rejected because of his physical appearance (he is blind, his face disfigured). He connects with a child who partly shares the same fate - he is bullied by his playmates. John (the protagonist of Native Son, by Scott Graham) is probably the most extreme outcast case on the list, since he is totally rejected by his small community. His relationships with people seem to be something that simply developed over time - the more he tried to get closer, the more they rejected him up, to the point where he lacks normal social interaction and turns to odd behaviours.

Two other films offer further interpretations of the outcast theme, but their main focus is on the reasons for pursuing an ideal. Firstly, Love Potato (by Gilles Cuvelier) is a story about a man who isn’t searching for love, but finds it nevertheless, impersonated by a potato. The line between real, surreal and the character’s imagination is very thin here. So viewers, just as some characters, might interpret that the potato’s magical abilities are all in the boy’s head. Vasco’s ideal is the horizon line, which in his vision is made up of whales. Sébastien Laudenbach is creative in putting obstacles before his character, a metaphor of a man’s never-ending quest to reach his goal. In simple black and white animation, Vasco builds up a story that shows a man torn between his flesh and his mind. Even though when watching the film one might consider Vasco an exceptional character, it’s only afterwards that we realize this is a dilemma we all have, in one way or another. The film operates with clear symbols and reduces the man to an initial state in order to depart on his adventure towards the horizon line.
One film though is an outcast itself, not belonging to any of these thematic categories. Ivan’s Distraction (by Cavi Borges and Gustav Melo) tells the story of Ivan’s confrontation with the adult world through picturesque images of a Brazilian favela. Ivan is torn between being a child and the acceptance of adults. What he learns is that he can only connect with them when they are behaving somehow childishly themselves, during a football game.
There is rarely even a faint smile when watching this year’s Critics’ Week short film competition. Still, that doesn’t mean the films don’t make up a varied selection. It simply proves what “a breath of fresh air” is all about: pulling old rabbits from new hats.
By Mirona Nicola