Cinéfondation shorts Speak up!

Some say cinema is a closed chapter: it’s all been done before. Yet despite pessimistic assumptions, there have always been new voices promising that there’s still a lot more to come. Unfortunately, most of this year’s voices in the Cinéfondation short film selection are just not loud enough to put up a fight against bleak predictions.

Projects selected in this section raise expectations of loud, distinctive visions from the new generation of filmmakers, but this year it seems like they were a bit intimidated, or maybe set back by the economic crisis. They barely manage to be innovative with their subjects and directing style. Many follow the path of “invisible directing” (I already am everything I want to have by Dane Komljen, Thanks. Fine by Matyas Prikler, Frozen Land by Tae-Yong Kim and Yi-Yeong Choi), whilst others only try to be daring when it comes to their subject (Coucou les Nuages by Vincent Cardona), and a third category shifts between objectivity and classical directing (Los Minutos, Las Horas by Janaina Marques, The Painting Sellers by Juho Kuosmanen, Iceland by Gilles Coulier, The Fifth Column by Vatche Boulghourjian, Shelley by Andrew Wesman). All of these movies have a spark at some point but for some reason don’t take it far enough.

The Fifth Column manages some kind of originality through the “dream” sequence of Hrag, the main character. Made up of eclectic archive footage - including sub-aquatic images, cartoons and a woman’s hands playing the piano - it creatively sums up the boy’s childhood universe, giving an insight into his attachment to the time when his mother was still alive.

The selection also includes several animated films. Cooked (by Jens Blank) is a cute, likeable story, but nothing out of the ordinary. Miramare on the other hand offers a pleasant visual experience using watercolour animation and mimicry of camera moves. But neither can make up for the fact that what the synopsis states isn’t directly reflected in the film.

There are nevertheless two films that really manage to stand out: The Game by Benjamin Nishtat and Here I Am by Balint Szimler. Both have a way of gluing the viewer to the screen, the first by keeping just enough distance to preserve its central ambiguity, and the latter by being kind of cold, but somehow very flattering to the character. The outcome is similar: there are specific atmospheres which diffuse throughout the films alongside unpredictable, interesting characters.

Here I Am tells the story of Victor, a bored young guy who goes around to his friend’s place in search of something to do. There’s a Jim-Jarmusch likeness in this character - he picks up a guy to take with him on a date, just in case there are any dry conversation moments; he orders a pizza and asks the delivery guy to take him over to his friend to whom he offers the pizza, asking him to pay; he goes to the supermarket, knowing that he doesn’t have any money and will leave the products at the cashier; while he’s waiting in line he exercises his wink for the girl in front.

The Game tells the story of a man-hunt game with no clear outcome. Still the movie has a purpose - exploring how alliances can be formed and how the power shifts between these two groups of people who barely know each other. The terms are settled not so much during the game as during the lunch break. The director has a special affinity for suspense which he skilfully constructs by concentrating for long sequences only on two main characters, who come into a conflict at the dinner table. The whole simulated man-hunt in the forest gives a strange feeling and makes you wonder where the meat on the table comes from.

All of the films had something interesting, at least in their concept idea. It’s just that most of them leave loose ends or just don’t manage to live up to a good start. Wanting to put your thoughts and feelings into a film is a good enough reason to make one, but they still have to express themselves a little louder in order to be heard.

By Mirona Nicola