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The 2023 Oscar Shorts – Get to Know All 15 Nominees

By Sebastian Torrelio & Rowan Sullivan

Watching the 2023 Oscar shorts is the quickest and easiest way to get closer to watching all of the Oscar contenders. So if you’re looking for something to say about the Academy Awards this week, check these short films out at cinemas near you.

The Animated 2023 Oscar Shorts

An Ostrich Told Me the World is Fake and I Think I Believe It (Australia)

Neil (Pendragon himself) works at a computer doing… something. He finds himself on the daily commute to his office from… somewhere. There’s always a deadline and schedule to meet at the corporation of… mysterious account. Luckily, Neil finds therapeutic understanding in an office ostrich (John Cavanagh), who reveals to him much of what the audience already understands: the fourth wall is what keeps Neil from his destiny, a life unfettered from the benign banality of… some such.

The strangest among the crop of this year’s nominees—usually a feat within itself, but here even more so—An Ostrich colludes camera trickery and unexplained plot thickening to the benefit of anyone wondering how stop motion became so relevant in today’s industry again. Pendragon maintains his win for the Australian Student Academy Award for the short, a sign of creative breakthrough, if not some trust from a system ready to hold their faith above the absurd. For his inventive framing and perceptions, further recognition for Pendragon wouldn’t be unwarranted. -ST

Ice Merchants (Portugal)

Doing more with silence than the rest of this year’s dialogue-minimal shorts combined, Gonzalez’s artistic depiction of father-son relationships at their brink is a tragedy bred from circumstances beyond our comprehension. Curiously isolated from their matriarch, the two undergo a baffling daily routine: freezing water from atop their lofty cliffside home, plummeting down to merchandise in the valley town below, and steadily making their way back up for supper and sleep. This goes on until powers beyond their own force a spontaneous break from habit.

Gonzalez won this year’s Annie Award for Best Short Subject, a notice of interest to the Academy’s voters as beneficial as any. Ice Merchants will go down with or without the Oscar as one of the most lauded short films in the program’s history, running the festival circuit mercilessly from a deliriously colorful skypoint. Yet the short, more clever than it ever leads its hand with, emotionally seals a justified landing even when all seems lost; maybe it could do so on Oscar night just the same. -ST

My Year of Dicks (U.S.)

Screenwriter Pamela Ribon, noted for her work on Moana and Ralph Breaks the Internet, recounts a tumultuous time of her youth growing up in 1990s Houston. As the title implies, Pam (Brie Tilton) has to go through the shapes, shades, warts and wont’s of securing an appointment to lose her virginity at age 15. Nearly everything that can comedically go wrong does, along with the sprinklings of interactions with the worst vibe checks boys of the Gen X era can muster.

Like the teenage transition to womanhood, My Year of Dicks is, at times, appropriately excruciating. Originally conceived for episodic broadcast on FX, Gunnarsdóttir mixes visual styles not unlike an experimental web series would, drawing from anime and Adult Swim alike. My Year of Dicks, humorously landing its place in Oscar history by name alone, won’t receive more appreciation than it already commands – but a cute story, wrapped tightly in a bow near invisible in the making, goes a long way when the promised entertainment is begotten by just the sheer mention of, ahem, “Dicks.” -ST

The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse (U.K.)

Starting from the beginning, a boy (Jude Coward Nicoll) and a mole (Tom Hollander) find solace in each other’s company – snow encasing anything they know familiar, stuck in the outside to look for simple comforts. From there joins an untame fox and a curiously mythical horse. Slowly, by biblical pace more so than by weariness, the boy and his growing cohort of creatures set off to discover a home they seem to know nothing about, acknowledging their victory sign may be no clearer than their starting post, dashed and covered in a layer of snowed-out ambiguity.

Based on Mackesy’s own children’s book illustrations, the Apple TV+ short submission goes a long way for voters simply judging by its cover alone. Evoking the charismatic comforts of Winnie the Pooh better the most animated products of the last half century, Baynton and Mackesy find established ground in weening all the self-important hagiographic sayings they can out of the playbook, a 32-minute short denser on morality principles than animal tendencies. If that sounds outside the banner of trustworthy quality, then you’ve found yourself outside the voting body, which lauded the film heavily at this year’s Annie Awards for frontrunning commendation. -ST

The Flying Sailor (Canada)

Animation is far from the only field in which the incomprehensible can be submitted as fact, but it certainly is one of the more audacious options. In the collision of 2D and 3D effects, a story is brought forth a century later – the impact of two fully-barged shipping vessels in Halifax 1917 that caused an impromptu explosion so large, it defied physics and deductive reasoning. A lone sailor, sent coursing miles into the sky, landed near naked, bodily, fully intact in a neighboring district.

For all its duration spent in the heavens above Nova Scotia, The Flying Sailor is capriciously shallow, a work of blanketed humor that singes one of the most traumatic events in recorded Canadian history down to a portly man, flailing nude with exposed penis, silhouetting overhead an endless mass of clouded smoke. It truly does not get more symbolic or understated than that – and so there is little else to note. -ST

The Documentary 2023 Oscar Shorts

Haulout (U.K.)

In this year’s requisite piece of climate change pleading, the siblings Arbugaev film scientist Maxim Chakilev on his journey through the Russian arctic, treading along sheets of ice and terrain in search of the titular ‘haulout’ – a rare, though predictable phenomenon months in the making that roots all of Maxim’s biological studies in a habitat changing before his eyes.

What appears at first to be the account of a northern hermit eventually reveals itself to be a very surreal account of elder traditions continuing in an ecosystem that may not allow them for much longer. Haulout hinges on the reveal of its premise, a uniquely-played shift in tone so sudden it borders on outrageously funny. The surprise is the documentary’s key element – in today’s world, so much scientific warning can only warrant so much shock at the incitement of worsening conditions, even at the furthest reaches of what one could mistake for civilization. ‘They’ don’t seem to happy about the sudden shift of things either… -ST

How Do You Measure a Year (U.S.)

From ages two through 18, experimental filmmaker Rosenblatt films his daughter on the same couch, with the same medium-close camera angle, asking her a script of half-broadstroke, half-maudlin questions concerning personal life, existentialist ideas, future aspirations and youthful tendencies. How Do You Measure a Year? takes a “Rent” quote and uses it to capitalize on an idea any parent would find fun and engaging – to reject nihilism by means of documenting their child’s mental state in real time, a project born out of either a hyperfixed, uncool philosophy, or boredom. One assumes with this filmmaker it’s the former.

Rosenblatt was here last year with one of the most intrepidly thickheaded Oscar shorts in recent memory, When We Were Bullies. His follow-up release doesn’t carry nearly the same broken stigma of a man who can’t read what he’s putting on paper, though it does leave one to wonder why such nuttiness continues unabated. For every incredibly useless question Rosenblatt posits (asking his toddler about societal power), the value of How Do You Measure a Year? seems to come back around, ending on a sentimental going-away note that Rosenblatt surely didn’t predict – for he can’t see the future even half as well as his daughter can evoke the values of the present. -ST

Stranger at the Gate (U.S.)

Seftel takes a camera to Mac McKinney, a war veteran framed as the epitome of anti-terrorism succumbing to his own demons. A former U.S. Marine, Mac details the internal horrors the foreign battlefront left him with, a relentless need to silence the residents of a local mosque, people for which he can see no other face besides the ones the American government has taught him to hate for chapters of his familial growth and defensive experience.

Stranger at the Gate may be among the most controversial of this year’s short film entries, for nothing more than its indecisive carefree inhabitance of ‘we-are-the-world’ hand-holding. Mac McKinney, a burly figure with tattoos aplenty, is given incredible narrative force to speak his mind, often with confounding truthfulness. This is the story of a soldier’s settling moments with his own consciousness, and not so much a lament of the systems that got him there. Where religious freedoms care to spread, Stranger at the Gate is not an assurance that local communities are really following. -ST

The Elephant Whisperers (India)

Bomman and Belli are a loving couple who hold a heralded status in South India, recognized for their skillful tract and familiarity with local wildlife, exotic and unbecoming as they emerge. The Elephant Whisperers focuses on their relationship with one particular orphan Raghu, a curious boy of assumed intelligence who grows resiliently under their protective care. Whether Raghu establishes lived-in roots as one of his own kind is another question, Bomman and Belli taking it upon themselves to prove an ecological service unheard of to their indigenous communities.

The Elephant Whisperers benefits from its cinematography more than anything, decorated production value relayed in the capturing of effervescent colors, splendid close-ups of the childlike mammals in the reserve, guiding a perspective that comes across as more relatable and illuminating to the relationship of pet and owner than Hollywood has been capable of recreating in years past. Don’t let the Netflix-branding fool you from Gonsalves’ cinematic depiction of comforting sensibility, a brokered chronicle of man and animal that alleviates much worry that this year’s documentary field will emotionally overwhelm more than it will sympathize and engross. -ST

The Martha Mitchell Effect (U.S.)

The wife of John Mitchell, the Attorney General and campaign manager for President Richard Nixon, would never tolerate being so simply referred to as just ‘the wife of an Attorney General.’ Martha held esteem through her incredibly vocal appearances, on the press cycles and the talk show circuit alike, speaking her mind aligned to the Republican majority only in shucked responsibility. For Martha was a stronger tabloid than Nixon could even control, embedding herself into the Watergate scandal for better or worse, a woman whose job was never to keep the peace when such unscrupulous leaders were present.

Netflix’s The Martha Mitchell Effect could very easily be mistaken for a network TV expose, if not for the documentary’s consistently enamored takes of Martha’s visage. What Alvergue & McClutchy’s short lacks in political treatise toward anything that couldn’t be found in the most listened-to Spotify podcasts, it mostly accounts for by keeping Martha front-and-center, a figure of emotional and understandable stock, who fought for her beliefs in spite of a politically-dealt decade that would consistently let her down. Whistleblowers have been recounted with more inspiration in recent years, but one could do worse for stories of emblazoned righteousness. -ST

The Live Action 2023 Oscar Shorts

An Irish Goodbye (Ireland)

Following the untimely death of their mother, a young man with Down syndrome and his estranged brother discover her unfulfilled bucket list.

Maybe this will be helped by all the voters who liked Banshees of Inisherin, but not enough to rank it in their first few spots. An Irish Goodbye, has a lot of fecks, moaning, and dry humor. It also has two more great Irish names in Turlough and Lorcan – ironic considering it was directed by a Tom and a Ross. However, despite it’s attempt to balance dark humor and warm feelings, it ends up a bit too saccharine. – RS

Ivalu (Denmark)

Ivalu is gone. Her little sister is desperate to find her and her father does not care. The vast Greenlandic nature holds secrets. Where is Ivalu?

Interestingly, Ivalu is co-directed the director behind Greenland’s first feature film directed by a woman, Anori, which we’ve previously reviewed for FilmRoot. Ivalu also contains a mystery enhanced by the harsh but beautiful Greenlandic landscape. However, it also carries some of Anori‘s flaws – the flashbacks of Ivalu cut with snippets of her sister searching for her, never build up enough suspense for the predictable pay-off. -RS

Le Pupille (Italy, U.S.)

Le Pupille brings you into a Catholic Orphanage during Christmas in the height of the Second World War. Despite the frugal times and strict Mother Superior, the girls find joy in a few magical scenes reminiscent of the wonder of early cinema.

In the Catholic Orphanage, objects are a scarcity. Unlike the often stuffy materialism of today’s modern world, the girls in Le Pupille live in large rooms with very few things around them. The frugality in front of the camera is also seen in the film’s production. Le Pupille was shot completely on film, and therefore all of the special effects are completely VFX free. This gives the film a playful magic that feels like the wonder of the Melies’ silent films. In one scene a baby appears out of thin air (from one shot to the next), whilst a freeze-framed shouting Mother Superior conveys shock from what feels like the kids perspective in another. It’s this simplicity both in front of the camera (with the limited objects and distractions) and behind the camera (in the production process) that makes this short Christmas film feel playful. -RS

Night Ride (Norway)

Night Ride is another Christmas short (I guess Academy members binge their shorts over the Holiday season). It’s premise is mildly amusing: Ebba unwittingly hi-jacks a tram and decides to play out the role of tram driver. However, it quickly takes a very un-festive turn. Just as we’re enjoying some laid back humor, a trans-woman is assaulted right under our noses. Then in an uncomfortable 180, our lead character becomes a ‘hero’ for ‘identifying’ with the assaulted woman.

It’s a shame, because Night Ride starts off pretty humorously. It could have been an enjoyable festive short, but instead chose to use transphobia as a tool to develop the character of the cisgender lead. -RS

The Red Suitcase (Luxembourg)

A veiled 16 year old Iranian teenager is terrified to take her red suitcase from the carousel at the Luxembourg Airport for fear of being identified by her fiancé. Her fear grows with every second in the face of what awaits her beyond the gate.

Like Riz Ahmed’s The Long Goodbye (last year’s winner), Cyrus Neshvad’s The Red Suitcase does a great job of plunging you into a situation and ramping up the tension quickly. It’s not initially clear what the girl is afraid of. The film doesn’t waste time telling you who she is, where she is, or where she’s come from. Instead we learn bits about her through the action. It’s pure chase-thriller and has no excess in its tight 17 minute run time. -RS

Holy Emy – AFI Fest 2021

Emy and her older sister Teresa live alone in Pireaus, the port City within greater Athens, after their mother is forced to return to the Philippines. They survive by avoiding the locals, attending church, and working at the local fish market. However, as their jobs fall through and Teresa grows more heavily pregnant, Emy seeks out Mrs. Christina to put her magical abilities to work. However, in coming out of hiding, Emy risks exposing her talents to the wrong people.

In Holy Emy, Emy and Teresa barely look old enough to care for themselves. They both look like teenagers but neither are in school – Teresa works at the local fish market, whilst Emy avoids most human contact now that her Mum has returned to the Philippines. It’s not clear why Emy didn’t return with her Mum. Perhaps her Mum thought she had enough support in Piraeus to stay whilst she returned home. She has her older sister, a neighbor that looks out for her (often condescendingly), and the support of the Filipino community at the local church.

The Filipino community is ‘othered’ in Holy Emy. All the Filipino characters are either overly devoted to Catholicism or have ancient powers which mimic Catholic Saints (hence the title). They’re also fetishized by the white characters in the movie. Teresa’s boyfriend keeps pointing out her Asian features when they’re making out, making it seem like he’s only into her because she looks exotic, whilst Mrs. Christina uses Emy, her mother, and other Filipinos for their magical abilities to heal people. There isn’t a reason why just the Filipinos have these old-world powers, which makes them appear even more exotic to the white characters. These defining characteristics fetishize the Filipinos in Holy Emy build up their ‘otherness’ vs. the white Greeks and Greek society.

Emy’s character in particular feels problematic. Her character, even more so than the rest of the Filipino community in this film, is made to seem unusual. She hardly speaks throughout the movie and is often pictured giving people creepy horror-film stares. Without a voice, she’s defined by her magical abilities: her ability to cry blood, heal, and control people through her touch and thoughts. Her silence and unusual abilities turn her into an old-world exotic fetish. Her character is just used as a tool to shock the audience and demonstrate her otherness. She, like the Filipino community in Holy Emy, are made to appear from another world – their magical powers and religious fervor don’t fit within modern Greek society. They’re fetishized for the sake of the quirkiness of this art-house body-horror.

Head to our AFI Fest 2021 Hub for more reviews and short films from AFI Fest 2021.

Overview of the Sundance Film Festival Shorts 2021

Here’s a small selection of quick fire reviews of a selection of the Sundance Film Festival Shorts we caught at the 2021 virtual edition of Sundance.

Lizard (Nigeria)

An 8 year old girl with an ability to sense danger gets kicked out of Sunday School service. In her boredom, she wanders around the church complex and unwittingly uncovers the underbelly of a Mega Church in Lagos.

There are a lot of films that capture a kid’s perspective, but rarely do they make you feel like your inside the kid’s head. Lizard does just that, immersing the viewer in the curious mind of an 8 year old girl wandering a church complex in Lagos. We’re distracted by the visions in her imagination which lead us into places we shouldn’t be. However, our older minds, more than hers, can see the underbelly of the church that she doesn’t. The grainy footage helps draw the viewer in by creating the same look as home videos from the 80’s and 90’s, making it instantly feel more personal. If you’re after an immersive, magical realism infused glimpse of the hidden side of Lagos, seek out Lizard.

In the Air Tonight (U.S.A)

A ghost story, a simulation, a message unspooling from a fax machine: In the Air Tonight recreates the apocryphal narrative of the origins of Phil Collins’ anthemic ‘80s mega-hit, via the voiceover of an “artist friend” nicknamed Slipperman.

The film’s description above does a pretty good job of describing exactly what In the Air Tonight is, but only really makes sense once you’ve seen the film. It helps to have know Phil Collins’ hit, In The Air Tonight before watching this, as the director knows you’ll be waiting for the song’s crescendo. When it comes, it’s accompanied by one of the most obnoxiously over-the-top sequences I’ve ever seen. In this context, after telling a strangely curious fake story about the former pop superstar, it comes as a humongous bang of a punchline, which depending on your humor, is incredibly hilarious or incredibly stupid.

The Longest Dream I Remember (Mexico)

As Tania leaves her hometown, she must confront what her absence will mean in the search for her disappeared father.

In The Longest Dream I Remember, the feeling of the film is much more memorable than what’s going on. It captures the haunting melancholy of the search for a lost relative. Without any more clues to get closer to finding her father, the film instead tries to piece together memories to reconstruct her lost father. This way of processing comes across as more eerie than sad, as the ambiguity of his disappearance keeps them from achieving closure.

You Wouldn’t Understand (U.S.A)

An idyllic picnic for one is upended after the suspicious arrival of a stranger.

Time loop stories are fun to watch when they make sense, and luckily You Wouldn’t Understand doesn’t run for long enough to get confusing. In fact, if anything, it could run a little longer. It also contains just enough of a ‘something’s not quite right’ feeling to keep you watching.

Misery Loves Company (South Korea)

As Seolgi is lying on a grass field with friends, a shooting star falls, and dark, intrusive thoughts hit her. Her melancholy blooms into bright and colorful ‘flower people,’ dancing and wishing for a meteorite to end the world.

In just 3 minutes, Misery Loves Company animates the thoughts of a depressed high school girl wishing for an easy way to end the monotony of life. However, as depressing as it sounds, the animation is surprisingly uplifting with flower headed people celebrating the imagined end of the world to Seolgi’s singing. It reminded me a bit of the Blockhead’s ‘The Music Box’ – another colorfully animated music video with depressing undertones.

Ghost Dogs (U.S.A)

A family’s new rescue pup is terrorized by deceased pets in this odd-ball horror.

If you’re a fan of dogs and horror movies, and can appreciate a good animation, you should like Ghost Dogs. Firstly, the animation is brilliantly eerie. It looks a bit like a The Simpsons Halloween special gone awry with the dogs looking a bit too human and the house a bit too off balance and vibrantly colored. However, the tension built off the uncanniness is offset by a few moments which play off the horror genre nicely – what seems scary to us isn’t necessarily scary for our rescue pup.

Five Tiger (South Africa)

Set in present day South Africa, Five Tiger tells the story of Fiona, a god-fearing woman, who finds herself in a transactional relationship with the leader of her church as she tries to support her daughter and her sick husband.

Like Lizard, Five Tiger depicts the questionable side to Christianity in Africa. Fiona is stuck in a loop of exploitation she’s unwilling to escape, symbolized in a 50 Rand bill – which equates to roughly $3 – as it transfers hands between her and the church. Five Tiger’s story is shot well, and told concisely, with just enough subtlety in it’s portrayal of Fiona’s situation to keep the viewer feeling clever for understanding what’s going on.

Excuse Me Miss, Miss, Miss (Philippines)

Vangie, a miserable contractual sales lady, is about to lose her job. But in her desperate attempt to persuade her boss not to sack her, Vangie uncovers the ultimate secret to keeping it.

Excuse Me Miss, Miss, Miss carries a light humor that felt very similar to last year’s Filipino festival hit, Death of Nintendo. There’s bright colors, characters you can laugh at, and creepy supernatural events. However, instead of teenage boys, this short follows a young woman working at an empty mall. If you can handle a bit of silly humor, and are intrigued by the supernatural twist, give this one a shot.

The Fourfold (Canada)

Based on the ancient animistic beliefs and shamanic rituals in Mongolia and Siberia, The Fourfold is an exploration of the indigenous worldview and wisdom. Against the backdrop of the modern existential crisis and the human-induced rapid environmental change, there is a necessity to reclaim the ideas of animism for planetary health and non-human materialities.

The animation of The Fourfold reminded me of the arts and crafts classes from primary school; it feels very home-made. In this sense, animating leaves, textiles, and other materials feels like a perfect fit for the narrative of animistic spirituality. However, the visuals don’t compensate for the lack of a tangible narrative to follow in the voice-over, leaving the film feeling a bit too ethereal.

For more from films outside of the Sundance Film Festival shorts head to our Sundance 2021 page.

LALIFF 2022 – Championing the Diversity of the Latinx Experience

The Latinx Inclusion fellowship was created last year by LALIFF to increase opportunities for underrepresented groups within the Latino community. Each of the Afro Latino and Indigenous Latino directors selected for the fellowship were granted $20k to produce a short and each one premiered at LALIFF 2022. Here’s a quick review of 9 of the 10 brilliant short films, which span a variety of topics from sexuality to race across the drama, comedy, and fantasy genres.

The Afro-Latino Directed Shorts

Somos De Aqui

Somos de Aqui is a love story between a Haitian-Dominican man and a Dominican woman set within the racist immigration policies of the Dominican Republic. One is waiting for their visa to return to the U.S. whilst the other fears deportation to an unknown country.

The best part of Somos de Aqui is the love story. The chemistry between the two leads had me smiling all the way through. I even felt a bit cheated by the short run time of the movie and the political ending, as it meant we couldn’t see more of their growing relationship (and more of the Dominican Republic). However, that’s kind of the point of the movie – you’re meant to be sucked into the love story so you’re disappointed by the ending. It makes you hate the racist policies in the Dominican Republic as it cut this romance short. That being said, I’d love to see a full feature love story from this director in the future.

Hoar

When a phone sex operator is accepted into a Ph.D program across the globe, she must confront her devout Catholic mother, with her difficult decision.

Like many of the films in the Latinx Inclusion fellowship, Hoar centers on family relationships. They’re integral to the plot and the character development of the short. The parents represent tradition and home, whilst the lead is trying to find and differentiate themself as a separate entity from their family. Hoar also feels like a stage play adaptation, because of the heavy dialogue, absence of sound, and one-location set. Both the stage-play style and seen before narrative feel a bit too same-y even with the great Afro-Latina lead.

Sin Raices

A recently adopted 8-year-old refugee spends a day preparing for her first red carpet appearance with her new pop star mother.

The mother-daughter relationship in Sin Raices feels deliberately awkward. Partly because they’re adjusting to each other’s company, but mostly because the daughter isn’t made to feel at home. Her new mother opts to spoil her instead of spending time with her and dresses her up to be an accessory to her look instead of protecting her from the limelight and allowing her to grow. The daughter’s lack of dialogue only furthers how she’s fetishized for her indigenous appearance and heritage by her new mother. Sin Raices highlights how indigenous identity is appropriated to the detriment of the very alive indigenous communities in the Americas.

Daughter of the Sea

After the death of her grandfather, a young woman experiences a spiritual awakening when she is called by Yemaya, the orisha Goddess of the Sea.

Featuring a great performance from Princess Nokia, Daughter of the Sea is a homecoming for a lonely pop star. Like the reconnection felt by the Dominican woman in Somos de Aqui, Princess Nokia’s Puerto Rican homecoming allows her to reconnect to her heritage and country through her mother’s spirituality. The lush green forests and sea turn the country into a visual paradise and her rustic family home and the warmth from being close to her family make everything feel like home. Especially in contrast to the cold glass-filled empty home of hers in Los Angeles. It shows that home is where your family is; Yemaya’s calling her is just the icing on the top.

Bodies Will Tumble And Fall

When a dysfunctional BIPOC cheer squad are sent to the woods to settle their differences, they must learn to become a team to save their coach from serial killers.

Bodies Will Tumble and Fall revels in the dumb entertainment of B-movie slashers. It plays on stereotypes as well as horror genre tropes to create an enjoyable, if silly and random, comedy. Unless you’re completely against cringy humor, you’ll find this appealing.

The Indigenous Latino Directed Shorts

Gabriela

In Gabriela, a young undocumented Guatemalan woman dreams of joining a Country Club swim team in the Southern States of America. She’s stuck between two worlds; striving for the American Dream for citizens and the American Dream that brought her undocumented mother to the country. The citizen’s American Dream is what she’s been brought up to believe in, by her education and neighbors. However, she’s boxed into the latter – forced to follow in her mother’s footsteps as a maid because of her undocumented status.

Her identity crisis is beautifully shown through her ‘alone time’- particularly in scenes with Gabriela swimming in the pool. In the water, she’s in her zone and can’t be disturbed by white neighbors, country club attendants, or her mother, reminding her of who she can and cannot be. The water doesn’t judge and gives her the time from everyone else to become her own person.

Heritage

Rumiñahui appears to be the perfect son and brother. He’s made the effort to spend time with both parents and helps to raise his younger brother, teaching him their heritage he proudly carries. The only thing he hides from his family is his sexuality.

Heritage is a coming out gone wrong story. Whilst there is a quick documentary interlude that highlights a heritage of homosexuality in Pre-Colombian society, the focus of this short is on the unfortunate anti-LGBTQ+ reaction of Rumi’s parents (as foreshadowed in the opening scene). Heritage uses prejudice to shock the audience, a bit like the swimming pool scenes in Gabriela. In this case it distracts a little from the nice character building work and interesting links to indigenous heritage from earlier in the movie, even if it’s purpose is to highlight an unfortunate reality.

Raul Playing Game

When Raul accidentally double books himself with a date with a woman and a man at the same time in the same place, two animated inner voices take over.

Raul Playing Game uses the time-loop and Inside Out tropes to turn an embarrassing situation into a cringy slapstick comedy. Whilst the situation feels unlikely, there’s definitely some fun in the video-game style dating scenario that evokes nostalgia for The Sims as well as the modern gamification of dating thanks to apps like Tinder. And despite the flashy style, that bounces between animation and live action, it contains a solid moral message for everyone.

The Record

Set in the 1930’s, Zack and his sick brother are left at home in the remote American West as their father ventures out for medicine. All they have for company is a magic phonograph that holds memories of their mother.

This short feels a lot like Bless Me, Ultima. It appears to be set in the same period with similar set design and costumes, and features unpredictable ghosts and magic that both haunt and protect the two brothers. It’s not clear why Zack’s brother fell ill or why the phonograph must keep playing, but it probably has something to do with their dead mother who they still hold dear many years later. The Record is a quaint tale that will probably make you thankful that you don’t like in a humble and remote electricity-less abode in the 1930s.

All of the 9 shorts we got to see as part of LALIFF 2022 are worth seeking out online in the next few months. We’re excited to see what these directors do next.

For more from LALIFF, check out last years reviews in the LALIFF 2021 Hub .

Pornomelancholia – Outfest Los Angeles 2023

Pornomelancholia is a slow paced character study of a up-and-coming porn star navigating the Mexican porn industry. It has plenty of dry humor and an underlying commentary on social media culture.

The film starts with a mid-range shot of Lalo standing alone by a busy street in the city. People walk past him and cars pass behind him as we watch him peer around. It seems like he’s waiting for someone or taking a breather in a chaotic day. However, before the shot lingers further, Lalo breaks down into a soft sob as the title credits pop up: Pornomelancholia. It’s a prelude for the critique of superficial influencer-culture that Lalo uses to make his way into the porn industry.

Lalo is portrayed as a lonely man parading as a popular sex icon. His Instagram videos hide the fact that he works in a small factory with two other people that he hardly talks to. His confidence in his sexuality online contradicts his inability to come out to his family – shown in the rehearsed voice messages he can’t bring himself to send to his mother. It follows films such as Sweat in showing that the digital lives promoted by influencers don’t always reflect reality.

Despite the underlying commentary, there is dry humor in Pornomelancholia. This is probably the only film that you can watch that is built around a Zapata led Mexican revolution porn film. It also probably runs on for too much of the film, but the pornographic shots, which linger for more than expected are designed to make you awkwardly uncomfortable (like Lalo himself). The sex scenes are provocative, but not as outrightly as another Mexican festival film – Battle in Heaven.

Overall, if you’re looking for a slow-paced festival film that follows a gay man working his way into the porn industry, Pornomelancholia is worth a watch. Whilst the culture fostered by the industry and Lalo is portrayed as fake, his journey feels unique, real and believable.