Selected Shorts, Volume 3

A relatively quick turnaround: if it only seems like a couple of months since the last batch… That’s because it is. I suspect there may be a certain amount of self-fulfilling prophecy here. Once you start reviewing short films, people are more likely to send you them. But I’m fine with that. Probably due to social media, my attention span these days is not what it used to… Oh, hey! A squirrel! Sorry, where was I? But I can usually get through something under twenty minutes without feeling an overwhelming urge to check my phone. If not, then there’s a problem, and it might not be me. However, all these submission had no difficulty passing that bar. Let’s start with something I stumbled over on YouTube.

Ray Harryhausen’s Stop Motion Fairy Tales (1946-52)

Dir: Ray Harryhausen

Harryhausen should need no introduction. His stop-motion work is renowned as some of the greatest ever. Anyone who saw Jason and the Argonauts, One Million Years B.C. or Clash of the Titans at a certain age, will have been in awe of the hydra battle or the tyrannosaur. Of course, a few years later, and you’d be in awe of Raquel Welch’s cleavage. But let’s focus on the stop motion. While those monsters are what Harryhausen is justifiably remembered, much less well known are his earlier work, creating stop-motion versions of classic fairy tales. During World War II, he had worked in the Army’s film division (under Colonel Frank Capra!). After it, Harryhausen salvaged and used rolls of 16mm war surplus film to make these at home, with the help of his parents.

Through 1952, he animated adaptations of Mother Goose Stories – basically, a collection of nursery rhymes – Little Red Riding Hood, Hansel & Gretel, Rapunzel (above, in case you hadn’t figured it out), King Midas, and The Tortoise & The Hare, though the last named was not formally completed until the 21st century, using Harryhausen’s original puppets. They are quite fascinating to watch, though there’s a creepy aspect to them, which I can’t quite put my finger on. Might be the eyes. That’s despite some of the content being toned down: grandmother in Little Red doesn’t get eaten by the wolf, she simply runs out of the house. But they are still a fascinating glimpse at a talent in early development. The films are available on YouTube

Vielleicht besser so (2025)

Dir: Jaschar Marktanner
Star: Marlene Fahnster, Francisco Aurell, Lisa Leonard
a.k.a. Perhaps It’s Better That Way

Marktanner also gave us cautionary AI tale Turing Test in our last selection. There’s no such technology present here, in what’s a grounded and very understated story. Jule (Fahnster, also in Turing Test) is a photographer, who has lost enthusiasm for her art. After lunch with her friend (Leonard), she’s pressured – amusingly, with the aid of an ailing pot-plant! – to go out and find something worth taking a picture. Nothing catches her eye, until Jule encounters a young man (Aurell), waiting at a bus stop and playing with a stick. 

We’ve recently been watching Seinfeld, “a show about nothing”, and to some extent, this is a film about nothing. Not much happens, and the ending is vague and ambiguous. Jule states the film’s title, but does that mean she kept the photo she took, or deleted it? You decide. Yet despite the lack of resolution, this is engaging. Everyone here feels like a real person, although the conversation between Jule and the man is wittier than anything I ever manage to have. “No one here minds if you mess around with a stick. As long as you don’t draw pentagrams and summon demons, I’m fine with it,” says Jules. “Who knows. The night is still young…” replies the stranger. I’m over here, taking notes. [The film is currently on the festival circuit]

Love You Forever (2024)

Dir: Alexandrea Meyer
Star: Alexandrea Meyer, Liam Roedy, Jeremy Miller

Regular readers will know I’m a little cautious of writer-director-actors. But I think it’s likely to work better in a short film, where a deeply personal tale can succeed, when it might seem painfully self-indulgent at feature length. This proves the point: this is an emotionally rough experience, which I can’t imagine enduring for ninety minutes. Shannon (Meyer) is a young mother, who we first see eagerly anticipating motherhood with her other half (Roedy). From there on, we switch back and forth between scenes of her taking care of her child, and the unfolding pregnancy. Except, it’s almost immediately apparent that something is Not Right – capitals used deliberately.  

The resulting sense of unease drives the experience the rest of the way, to an often overpowering degree. My mind was racing, searching for clues as to what that “something” was. Where was her other half? Why is the house so gloomy? I found myself increasingly on edge, and it was almost a relief to discover the truth, Not Right though it certainly was. Meyer played the victim in Beautiful Friend, which was also uncomfortable viewing. Here, the emotions on display are even more raw, and there were times where I wanted to avert my gaze. Much like Friend, this is likely not an experience I’ll be in a hurry to repeat. Yet it’s definitely one I won’t forget. [The film is currently on the festival circuit]

Potwash (2026) and Dial (2024)

Dir: Josh Trett
Star: Kyle Malan, Darcy Winters, Mark Nash, Olivia Bourne

Potwash is a literal kitchen-sink sage of mixtapes, molluscs and mayhem. Isaac (Malan) works in a restaurant kitchen, at the very bottom of the ladder, beneath a head chef (Nash), who makes Gordon Ramsay look like Princess Diana. Isaac is developing affection for waitress Charlotte (Winters), fuelled by their common interest in music. But fate has other plans. This does an excellent job of creating characters, setting up a situation and telling a complete story in under fifteen minutes. I was engaged from the get-go – and, hey, I also learned things about the preparation of mussels! Entertaining and educational. [The film had a Norwich premier last month, and will screen at the BFI Stephen Street later this in February]

I was blown away by Dial. The phrase “roller-coaster of emotions” is a cliché, but it’s an appropriate one here. Dani (Bourne) takes care of her mother, who is suffering from early onset dementia, and spends much of her time on the phone. After mom passes, Dani keeps getting static-laden calls. After she calls in the phone company to fix the line, things rapidly escalate. The results swing from domestic drama into supernatural horror, before coming out of darkness into a comforting light – something I probably needed, after the near unrelenting dread of Love You Forever!). This is likely to resonate with, and offer solace to, anyone who has lost a loved one. [Dial is available to watch on YouTube

Still Here (2026)

Dir: Joshua Sowden
Star: Brock Jones

Finally, less of a review than a PSA. You might remember we spoke to Joshua Sowden about his feature Book of the Witch, last year at this time. I would recommend any aspiring film-makers pop over to the YouTube page of his company, Self Esteem Productions,  and give them a subscribe. There you’ll find not just their shorts and features, but a slew of other content that will potentially be useful. There are tutorials on using software such as DaVinci Resolve and Premiere Pro, gear breakdowns and behind the scenes footage for their productions. Indeed, it’s interested not just for film-makers, but anyone who wants to know what is involved in making movies on a micro-budget. 

Which brings us to his latest work, Still Here, which dropped a couple of weeks ago. It is also a micro-movie, coming in a crisp one second over four minutes – including the end credits – with just one actor and four (repeated) words of dialogue: “Grab… Touch… Drop… Close.” High concept: a man prepares a ritual to trap an invisible entity in his house. This doesn’t go as planned. That’s it, and there’s not much more to say. But it still manages to tell a complete story, and keeps you engaged from the start to the end. Mind you, if four minutes is too long for you, maybe lay off scrolling on the TackyTic for a bit.