Hollyshorts Film Festival Review Roundup Part 1

August is always an exciting time in the short film festival circuit. Mainly because our favourite summer film festival Hollyshorts runs through the middle of it. Like every year, the lineup is absolutely stellar and we are thrilled to share reviews of several of our favourite shorts we have seen throughout the length of the festival.

His Mother, dir. Maia Scalia

From the first 15 seconds, His Mother gives you an uneasy feeling that sets in and never lets go. Prepare to feel your heart in your throat for the entirety of this short - it takes you for a drive and leaves you white-knuckled at the wheel. 

It’s a joy to see such unique and clever filmmaking in a directorial debut, this time from director Maia Scalia. The choice to film the entire short within the confines of a vehicle was brilliant as she lets external noises, like phone calls, traffic, radio and construction drive the plot and increase the stress level. It truly is a masterclass in tension-building. 

Actress Bethany Anne Lind is enthralling in a performance that keeps you sat at the edge of your seat. As the only actor you see in the film, she’s able to handily carry it and maintain an unbreakable level of distress and emotion. Inspired by a true story, His Mother follows Bethany’s character Julie as she is driving around, trying to locate her son after receiving a disturbing email and video from him. Throughout the story you are introduced to other auxiliary characters such as police officers, a doctor, and Julie’s ex and friends through a series of phone calls and texts. Each interaction provides new information as the plot continues to build, allowing the viewer to piece together the information like a puzzle. The plot allows you to empathize with this mother as you assume the worst right alongside her, hoping for her sake she is able to help avoid disaster. 

In a show-not-tell manner, His Mother examines the under-discussed intricacies of being a parent who is wrapped up in a devastating event with her child. A lot of times, it’s easy for someone to judge or blame parents for their children actions. This short really puts you into the parents’ shoes; you can feel this mother’s unconditional love for her child and her desire for the best for him, despite the horrifying events taking place. 

His Mother is impeccably crafted; director Maria has teamed up with 2-time Oscar winning editor Pietro Scalia, who serves not only as the editor but as an executive producer. The segments are perfectly edited to seamlessly move from one phone conversation into another. Just as impressive is the re-recording mixing done by Oscar winner Kevin O’Connell, who expertly blends the conversations Julie is having with the other external noises going on at each end of the phone. 

Even though other important social issues are addressed like mental health and gun violence, His Mother remains pretty apolitical. It is primarily a story about the love of a parent, and how parental love endures even in the most devastating circumstances.

Review by: Brandon MacMurray

Meal Ticket, dir. Wes Andre Goodrich

Set backstage at a crowded concert, Meal Ticket narrates the dilemma of an artist manager, Saint (Siddiq Saunderson), who manages rising star Apollo (Coy Stewart). Minutes before Apollo’s debut tour begins, Saint’s assistant warns him that Apollo’s mother has collapsed and she is en route to the hospital. The short’s main dilemma then arises: Saint is unsure if he should tell Apollo, which would mean refunding all purchased tickets and the uncertainty of whether Apollo would be afforded another shot at an immense tour, or if he should conceal the truth from him temporarily in hopes of an incredible show. In only twelve minutes, Wes Andre Goodrich takes us on a journey of stress, anxiety, and confusion. 

Following up on the fantastic Palm Sunday, Goodrich proves once again his talent as a director and writer. His sense of tension elevates a plot that, on the surface, may seem basic. Indeed, narratively, it is a simple premise. But the energy injected into the construction of uncertainty is fascinating. The artistic decision to use corridors and small rooms illustrates a feeling of claustrophobia. Saint is constantly moving, and so are cinematographer Ben Hardwicke's cameras. It is a coordinated game between the editing, acting, and camera movements to make the situation's lack of control palpable.

Even with a short run time, the film still manages to discuss ethics, work opportunities for people of colour, and professionalism. It is never a unidimensional debate. The script often weighs on the other side. Assistants suggest Saint should tell the artist and risk canceling the show minutes before. But he mulls on how rare these grand opportunities are for black artists, as well as the increased rarity of second chances. The film constantly flits between the arguments and their counter-arguments; a final answer is clearly not as simple as it looks. 

And the ending may create some discussion among the public. What is the most ethical path for Saint? Perhaps the real conversation here is not whether what’s happening on screen is right or wrong, but to expand it on it afterwards in conversation. Wes Andre Goodrich provides significant substance and visual elements to reflect upon. He provides each viewer with an opinion with a different interpretation - as any great film does.

Review by: Pedro Lima

Terminally Ill, dir. Chris Cole

Terminally Ill depicts a scene all too familiar for many of us. A young man named Fonzel sits in a chair in a dimly lit hospital room. Next to him, wired to beeping monitors, is his grandmother Gloria who is undergoing end of life care. Fonzel, played by Benjamin Earl Turner, is there to say his goodbyes which he as he puts it “didn’t want our last conversation to be sad and whack so I put it in a rap”.

Leveraging his music as conduit to relay his emotions, the rap is used as a narrative tool which finely balances between sorrow and humour, between fond childhood memories and trauma. It is clear to us as viewers that Gloria has been a big part of his life, guiding him through experiences big or small.

We watch Fonzel struggle to come to peace with the situation as the EKG numbers dwindle, only to switch up the tempo and transition into a skit like setting complete with a nurse providing ad libs. The film touches on the often absurd setting that both professionals and next of kin oftentimes find themselves in when entering the hospital space. By letting the hospital staff join in on the song and dance, they get depicted as a very literal part of the process alongside the emotional support they are known to provide, easing a bit of the tension which comes hand in hand with mourning for Fonzel as well as for us as viewers.

Writer director Christopher J. Cole packs an enormous amount into this mostly single location, eight minutes and some change short, and does so without making it feel rushed or forced. Leveraging the familiarity of the setting to skip past first act buildup, we are immediately launched into the heart of the story. Building towards a brief third act crescendo, leaving you with a feeling of warmth and heartache as we learn to let go together.

Review by: Robin Hellgren

Midnight, dir. Takashi Miike

Ultra-prolific Japanese auteur Takashi Miike (Blade of the Immortal, Audition, First Love, and about a hundred more films) delivers an ecstatic new short film Midnight that swerves onto the screen in a blast of neon lights and the smell of burning rubber, and never lets up for its overstuffed-to-bursting 19-minute runtime. Midnight brings us a late-night taxi driver named “Midnight” played by popular Japanese actor Kento Kaku, who careens through the streets of Tokyo in his modified sportscar offering help to those in need; over the course of one night, he comes to the aid of a truck-driving young woman Kaede (Konatsu Kato), who is on a mission to get revenge on a nefarious local gang following her father’s death. Very loosely based on manga series by legendary Japanese manga artist Osamu Tezuka (the creator of Astro Boy, among many other characters), Midnight is 19 minutes of absurdly over-the-top, go-for-broke extravagance. 

Ripping through a strobing-bright opening credits sequence straight out of a Gaspar Noé film and smashing right into the blasted-out neons of late-night Tokyo streets, Miike cranks his ballistic, anything-goes style to 11 and stays there for the whole film. All of Miike’s feature-film interests—Yakuza shootouts, samurai honor codes, horror villains—are put into a blender and splashed across the screen in an unrestrained phantasmagoria of melodramatic flashbacks, pages ripped from a manga, car races, anime logic, white-hot guitar solos and, why not, a cat puppet that shoots lasers out of its mouth. Midnight was entirely shot on an iPhone 15 Pro, and much of the film takes place in neon-lit Tokyo at night, including a thrilling street chase sequence, an exercise to showcase the iPhone’s video capture capabilities in low lighting. Miike leans into the digital-ness of iPhone photography, gaudily heightening the artificiality of Midnight at every histrionic turn. 

The kinetic driving sequences are lit and styled like the delirious grown-up version of the Wachowski’s Speed Racer, with Midnight’s tricked-out taxi being both James Bond cool and Inspector Gadget goofy as required to get through a series of close calls (Midnight leaves aside the car’s weapons to use an extra-tall fifth wheel to drive above traffic). While Midnight doesn’t necessarily tell a full story—how could you possibly condense a 6 volume, 53-chapter manga series into a feature film, let alone a short—but the pieces sure are fun; Miike is a master of both high drama and low comedy (during an ultra-serious moment of violence, a hired goon slips on a banana peel). After an exhilarating and exhausting 19 minutes, the credits show mind-blowing behind the scenes footage of how Miike and his crew achieved elaborate practical driving and effects shots with little more than an iPhone mounted on a gimbal. Even if it was conceived mostly as a show reel for a new technology, more cult favourite auteurs should get an Apple-sized budget to play with, because Midnight is a blast from beginning to end.

Review by: Joshua Hunt