2022 Oscar Nominated Shorts

By Rowan Sullivan & Sebastian Torrelio

Watching the 2022 Oscar shorts is the quickest and easiest way to get closer to watching all of the Oscar contenders. The short films also typically contain a more diverse selection of films than the feature nominees. This year’s nominees come from four continents and range from a creepy Chilean animation to a documentary set in Afghanistan. So if you’re looking for something to say at the Academy Awards on the 27th, check these short films out at cinemas near you.


The Animated 2022 Oscar Shorts

Animated shorts

Affairs of the Art (U.K./Canada)

In over three decades since the conception of Beryl, the leading lady of Quinn’s exasperating comic piece Affairs of the Art, the pace and nature of animation, feminism, and sexually-driven dramaticism have all shifted drastically. Quinn’s nominated short is another document of Beryl’s mental misadventures, an abstract cartoon of imaginative family constructs that threaten to break any semblance of sane reality with every passing narration.

Quinn’s latest relies on its draftsmanship, a force beyond reckoning that compiles some of the most interesting shots of characterization among any ensemble cast in this year’s Oscar nominee pool, feature-length or otherwise. It’s a shame that Affairs is so bogged down by its frenetic involvement in personal mind-wandering that any sort of meaningful plot elements remain impossible to grasp through 16 minutes of running time. It is best to marvel and/or gawk at the restless spirit of Beryl’s peers than to make any grander sense of the screwball antics at show. -ST

Bestia (Chile)

Even with context, the Chilean Bestia is a difficult piece to wrangle into short summary. An allegory for militant upheavel caused during the country’s multi-decade era of dictatorship in the 20th century, it follows the porcelain Ingrid Olderöck, an officer ingrained in systems of torture, interrogation and suggested sexual assault, as she grapples with the damage that a nation’s collective political anguish has caused to her own mental state.

Bestia boasts an extremely delicate take on modern psychological horror, the composition and editing of Ingrid’s memory-driven story treated with a very fine balance between shock, abstraction, and historical signifiers. Covarrubias’ short, the most immediately praise-worthy of this year’s animated showcase, dives incredibly deep into a realm of traumatic pain at the cost of its audience’s understanding of the haunting historical subtext at hand, and still manages to come out all the better for the risks at hand. -ST

Boxballet (Russia)

Striking most for its character design, Dyakov’s BoxBallet is a premise of opposites-attracting in the most bluntly conventional manner – a large, brutish-looking boxer, face plump with bruises and broken features, develops a meaningful crush on a local ballet dancer, fragile and swanlike in every respect, as if ripped from a fairy tale book herself so paper-thin in stature. Together, they form a bond of complementary artforms in a world of machismo expectations.

There is something not all too unfamiliar about Dyakov’s short, exploring the nature of public imagery and introspective self-shaming in a form that some Pixar-esque western animation studios have done more progressively (or, anthropomorphically) in the last decade. BoxBallet is, for what can be taken at face value, the most broadly conventional of this year’s animated lineup – which is not to say that, the politics of its host nation aside, it should not lose points for the simplicity of a pleasant, embraceable artstyle and common message to morality. -ST

Robin Robin (U.K.)

A most obviously cute response to the fish-out-of-water tale, Robin Robin is a bird-out-of-sky charmer by the stop-motion institution Aardman Animations: a quaint Christmas anecdote of a young bird mistakenly raised among a family of mice, who shares their common habits of food-stealing and house-sneaking. Through discovery and predatory villainy, namely the softly sinister tabby cat voiced spectacularly by Gillian Anderson, Robin learns about self-identity while also confronting his place in a hostile, though emotionally-accepting environment.

The clever coerciveness of Robin Robin lies primarily in its artstyle, a step beyond even what Aardman has mastered with their claymation features. As if specifically targeted for a newer, younger generation, the stock characters are fully-feltlike creations, pulled directly from a young child’s playpen as if safe for a baby to teethe on. Everything about this particular world is crafted out of durability and softness, two perfect qualities to shape a holiday short out of, anticipating the seasonal return rate this piece will surely receive the studio for years to come, Oscar-win or otherwise. -ST

The Windshield Wiper (Spain)

A rotoscoped anthology of the musings that come with smoking endlessly in a noisy cafe, The Windshield Wiper attempts to dissect the idea of love through several seemingly unrelated vignettes, an extended and existential interpretation of love in the age of technology that silently asks questions about the relationships we fail to attain within an unforgiving society that aggrandizes the disconnected, however hollow-eyed and arrogantly elevated their lifestyle might be.

It’s genuinely difficult to decipher what Alberto Mielgo is going for here – by diving headfirst into the elder tradition of hyperlink storytelling, he’s created a more-than-interesting collage of socio-economic thoughts to ponder. Not unlike a college student’s Tumblr page, however, the cohesiveness of the tech-era message behind The Windshield Wiper takes a backseat to the visual reliance of computer-generated vibes. Any Oscar showcase is welcome to include such a brief level of fantastical randomness among its more traditional fare, but without a clearer direction its hard to see this piece ever penetrating the most frontal layer of any voting body’s minds. -ST


The Documentary 2022 Oscar Shorts

Documentary shorts

Audible (U.S.)

Audible follows high school athlete Amaree McKenstry and his close friends at Maryland School for the Deaf as they come to the end of their senior year. He’s preparing for the final few football matches whilst they’re all dealing with the trauma of losing a close friend and preparing for life after school.

Audible is told almost entirely from the perspective of Amaree and his fellow students, and therefore almost entirely in sign language (bar a few appearances from hearing people). The heartfelt one-on-one interviews make it an intimate window into the experience of deaf kids on the cusp of adulthood. There are also plenty of well-shot sequences, particularly those of the high school football matches. However, the short tries to cover too much, from dealing with grief to repairing father-son relationships, which means it doesn’t really touch on any one issue very deeply. As a result the film feels more like a quick snapshot of life as a deaf student instead of offering something deeper. -RS

Lead Me Home (U.S.)

500,000 Americans experience homelessness every night. Lead Me Home captures the experience from a range of perspectives; from real-life stories of those experiencing homelessness across three cities on the West Coast (Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Seattle) as well as clips of the unsympathetic.

Lead Me Home does a good job of personalizing the experience of homelessness and humanizing those marginalized because of it. However, it fails to explore the wider issue. Instead of looking at the causes or possible solutions, it just presents the issue as if the audience wasn’t already aware of it. Perhaps the filmmakers didn’t want to politicize the issue by refusing to point a finger anywhere. However in refusing to point a finger, the filmmakers present homelessness as something that exists naturally in all societies rather than an issue that could possibly be solved. -RS

The Queen of Basketball (U.S.)

As an Olympics Gold Medalist, that won 3 national trophies at a collegiate level before being drafted to the NBA, you might think that Luisa Harris would be a household name. However, unfortunately she’s not.

Ben Proudfoot’s The Queen of Basketball does her accomplishments justice. Just like his short from last year, A Concerto is a Conversation, The Queen of Basketball feels incredibly warm thanks to the close one-on-one interviews with Luisa and her infectious laughing. It also has a similar celebratory tone – not just recapping Luisa’s incredible athletic accomplishments but also celebrating her happiness in her humble family life. Ultimately, there’s nothing to fault with this film. It’s well shot, features a beautifully warm subject in Luisa, and is brought together well with the editing to make it feel neither too long nor too fits the running time perfectly. -RS

Three Songs for Benazir (Afghanistan)

Three Songs for Benazir is the only Documentary short contender produced outside the U.S. It documents the story of Shaista, a newly married man living in a displacement camp in Kabul. He struggles to balance his dreams of being the first from his tribe to join the Afghan National Army with his family responsibilities and illiteracy.

Three Songs for Benazir feels like the most ‘real’ documentary of the nominees. It doesn’t feature any one-on-one interviews or direct talking to the camera and there is no interference from the director. Instead, it follows Shaista observationally, catching what feel like more everyday moments in his life living in and around the displacement camp. We follow him as he watches planes in the sky, tries to sign up for the army, and sing a lot (both to himself and others). Whilst it only gives a small glimpse into his life with Benazir, it all feels ‘real’ and authentic, and not shown for show. -RS

When We Were Bullies (U.S.)

After bumping into an old elementary school classmate in his 60s, filmmaker Jay Rosenblatt is compelled to track down his fifth grade class and teacher to examine their memory of and complicity in a bullying incident 50 years ago.

When We Were Bullies is a very self-indulgent short film. In short, the filmmaker decides to make a film to relieve himself of the guilt he still feels from bullying a classmate 50 years ago. He never considers how the film might make his victim (and all other victims of bullying) feel, going so far as to call this out directly in the voiceover (“I didn’t consider how the film will make you feel”). Worse, he doesn’t even care, as covered when he says “The film isn’t really about you, it was about us (the bullies).” It reminded me a bit of ‘white fragility’ in the way the filmmaker centralizes his own guilt, over the actual victims suffering. As a result, it just feels incredibly narrow-sighted, self-centered, and oblivious to what really would be a ‘progressive’ way of examining his guilt today. Plus the animations of his elementary class’ photos are too repetitive. Take his elementary school teacher’s advice and consider avoiding this film. – RS


The Live Action 2022 Oscar Shorts

Ala Kachuu – Take and Run (Switzerland)

19 year old Sezim moves to the Kyrgyz capital to continue her studies when she’s kidnapped by a group of young men and taken into the barren countryside. There, she’s forced to marry a stranger. If she refuses the marriage, she is threatened with social stigmatization and exclusion. Torn between her desire for freedom and the constraints of Kyrgyz culture, Sezim desperately seeks a way out.

Ala Kachuu is your typical foreign language entry into the Academy Awards shorts competition. Its purpose is to show that something bad happens every day somewhere in the world that you never knew of. In this case, most viewers probably haven’t heard of Kyrgyzstan, or its fiercely patriarchal society, but on seeing it, you’ll probably become pretty angry about a culture you knew next to nothing about. Luckily, this one isn’t 100% misery porn, as the lead never loses hope of changing her life. It also captures the city and countryside well and builds tension effectively as Sezim plots her escape. – RS

On My Mind (Denmark)

One morning, gloomy Henrik enters a bar and spots a karaoke machine. He has to sing a song to his wife and it has to be right now.

On My Mind is a heavily sentimental film with a twist that is pretty obvious from the start. The grumpy bar-owner kick-starts a pantomime situation, by refusing to let Henrik sing. There’s a bit of ‘will he-won’t he’ before Henrik finally reveals the emotional burden he’s obviously carrying. The reveal feels manipulative, because we’re expecting it and it’s being held back from us deliberately to provoke emotion. So when it lands, it’s sad, but equally frustrating, hindering the intended payoff. – RS

Please Hold (U.S.)

In an America that has become fully automated, Mateo, a young Latino man is arrested by a police drone without explanation. He’s locked up in a detention center fully manned by bots and the familiar call center AI we’ve all had trouble with. To get out, he has to navigate the computerized bureaucracy of the privatized American justice system, in search of an actual human being to set things right.

If you’ve ever been caught in the bureaucracy of the state, you’ll be able to sympathize with Mateo’s misfortune. Like Black Mirror, Please Hold taps into the collective unease of the modern world by looking at the intended and unintended consequences of new technologies – in this case a fully automated society and growing police state. However, it does it with a little more humor, and without a complete lack of hope, making it a more easy-going watch. Plus it has a satirized version of Microsoft’s annoying paperclip helper. Please Hold manages to lightly criticize the carceral system without feeling completely tone-deaf like last year’s Two Distant Strangers. -RS

The Dress (Poland)

Julia toils away at a rundown motel in rural Poland as a maid. In the monotony of life, she starts fantasizing about a truck driver that occasionally visits and the possibility of ending her loneliness.

The Dress may just be the most depressing short of the Live-Action section. As whilst the protagonists of Ala Kachuu and On My Mind have hope or achieve some form of closure, Julia is stuck in an endless limbo of work and prejudice. Just when you think life might be looking up for her as she comes out of her shell, her hopes are completely shot, bringing her self-esteem crashing down. I’m hoping the Academy picked this short because of the lead performance and well-constructed dreary aesthetic and not for the misery porn factor common in a lot of the Academy Award nominees. -RS

The Long Goodbye (U.K.)

Riz and his family are in the middle of preparing a wedding celebration when a white supremacist group arrives in their neighborhood.

This short was released back in 2020 alongside Riz Ahmed’s ‘The Long Goodbye’ hip hop album. Like the music, the short goes hard on post-Brexit Britain and the rise of the far-right movements. It’s quick, and builds intimacy, and later chaos, through rapid cutting, fast-paced dialogue, and movement. It’s designed to feel authentic and it succeeds in selling it to an audience perhaps familiar with British white supremacist hate groups from films such as This is England, the Small Axe series, or Blinded by the Light. It concludes powerfully with spoken word to make this year’s most powerful protest entry. -RS

With quarantine restrictions still in place in Los Angeles, AFI Fest has launched as a virtual film festival this year with the help of the Eventive film platform. Despite the challenges that is 2020, AFI Fest has still managed to gather a wide slate of over 100 films from around the world. So whilst no one will be in Hollywood in person, it’s still one of the most prestigious film festivals in Los Angeles in spirit.

I’ll be trying to catch as many of the films from the World Cinema and New Auteurs sections, as both contain a bunch of interesting selections from around the world. Check back here to get the lowdown of some of the films from both sections and a full festival recap a little while after it ends.

La Botera

Set within a neglected Buenos Aires neighborhood, La Botera follows Tati, a girl living alone with her father whilst navigating the challenges of adolescence.

Tati is already an independent woman. The opening scene shows her getting up, making breakfast, and getting ready for school on her own. We’d think she was living alone until the phone rings and Tati tries to wake up her previously unseen dad to answer it. She also sticks up for herself against the bullies at and outside of school in contrast to her childhood friend and confidently initiates conversation with people older than herself, such as a local boat rower she plays boyfriend and girlfriend with. However, she still retains the naivety of a young adult as shown in her awkwardly brash interactions with older kids and her friendship with another young neighborhood boy. The army games and relationship with the latter show she’s still connected to the young girl she’s slowly moving away from whilst the conversation with older kids represent the pull of her growing up.

Her coming of age feels a bit more hostile than others. It’s partly due to the bleak environment La Botera is set within – the constantly overcast skies and heavily clothed characters emphasize the cold unwelcoming environment. But the hostility is mostly due to the strained relationship she has with the dad she lives with alone. Unlike the gentler fathers in other father-daughter coming of age movies like Eighth Grade and Alba, Tati’s father offers little love and sympathy. He punishes and chastises her in almost every scene they share. Even when he has an opportunity to share a moment with her, such as when they’re watching football on TV, he gets annoyed as she apparently shouldn’t enjoy a ‘man’s game’. Maybe he’s been affected by the neighborhood they live in or his own experiences, or maybe his machismo just hides his fatherly insecurities. Either way, he contributes to the hostility of his daughter’s coming of age.

If you’re into coming of age stories set within a pretty bleak environment, La Botera is worth a watch. The close-up shots that follow Tati give it an edge that make it feel more real and personal than others.


Head to our LALIFF 2021 Hub for more reviews from the 20th edition of LALIFF.

Hairareb

Hairareb follows the relationship between Hairareb, a middle-aged farmer, and Innis, his new bride. As they begin to get comfortable with their new life together, the secrets behind their marriage and from their past lives roll out into the open, creating a whirlwind of trouble for their budding relationship. Can they weather the storm, or will they fall back to the mistakes they made in the past?

There’s a lot going on in the opening scenes of the movie. The opening scene shows a man riding a horse into the sunset accompanied by a loud soundtrack and voiceover like a Hollywood Western. It introduces us to Hairareb’s narrative voice. The next shows a young man unlocking a chest of someone’s mementos. It’s not clear whose mementos or how he’s related to them. The film doesn’t give too many clues in the next few scenes either as it jumps straight to Hairareb and Innis’ wedding. From there, the jumping back and forth stops for a while, until the film delves into the two main character’s past lives, which by this point at least, helps to clear up some of the confusion from the start of the film and provide a bit of character development. However, for the most part, Hairareb feels unfocused. The drought, relationships, character backstories, and life in rural Namibia are all sacrificed for the sake of creating domestic melodrama, leaving the film feeling pretty hollow.

As you’ll notice from the start, this is a domestic melodrama. The loud soundtrack and overwrought narrative voice give that away. The use of a narrator feels a bit unnecessary at times, as everything Hairareb says could be built into a more natural script. It feels like it has been included to cut corners in the character building and plot to advance the plot quicker. It’s also always full of writing that feels a bit overdone, especially when it’s read alongside an overbearing soundtrack that doesn’t leave anything to the imagination. The soundtrack also often gives away the direction of the scenes before they’re acted out. Upbeat musical interludes play a few scenes before the newlyweds are happy and the villains are given away before the reveals by the loud ominous soundtrack accompanying their face on screen. A little more subtlety may have created a bigger surprise for these reveals, however, viewers used to melodramas may not be as put off by these moments as it’s all part of the fun.

The language choices were also interesting. Whilst the film was mostly shot in English, there were some moments where the cast started speaking the indigenous Khoekhoe language. Presumably English was chosen for the film’s marketability abroad, but why not then just run the whole film in English for this reason? The Khoekhoegowab words seemed to be included randomly and not for certain characters or moments so it wasn’t clear why they were included. If the director wanted to include the language, it would have been great to have used Khoekhoe throughout the movie. I don’t believe it would have made much of a difference to the international audience viewing it and maybe the actors would have been more comfortable using it.

Overall, if you’re looking for a Namibian domestic melodrama, you’ve come to the right place. Every scene of Hairareb is filled with it, from the music to the relationship reveals. There’s also some beautifully framed shots of rural Namibia to showcase the landscape. However, if you’re not familiar with the domestic melodrama genre you’ll probably find this example overdone and lacking in substance.


Check back to our Pan African Film Festival 2022 page for more reviews coming out of the 30th edition of the festival.


The debut feature from Gibrey Allen, Right Near the Beach, was one of our favorite films at the Pan African Film Festival 2020 in Los Angeles. It builds on the themes of grief and homophobia in Allen’s 2011 short film Excuses for Jeff with a unique visual style and soundscape which makes you feel like you’re in the film, right next to the characters.

So we’re excited to present a brief interview with Gibrey Allen himself. Scroll down for the interview, and be sure to follow Gibrey Allen on Instagram (@DearMayFilms) for updates on Right Near the Beach‘s release. You can read our review of Gibrey’s debut feature here.


First of all, what inspired you to become a filmmaker? 

Before I started making films I was acting. I was always interested in film-making but the drive to create better roles than what I was been offered was the impetus. 

I found that in my first project Excuses for Jeff. The end to end creative process was a both a great challenge and joy. Living every aspect of the film-making process gave me a greater purpose than playing a character. Creating and having control of how story is told, particularly stories about the black experience, is important. Stories that celebrate or show true conflict, or stories that aren’t trivial, are important to me. That is my film-making mission. 

What drew you to the story of Jeff and homophobia in Jamaica?

Homophobia in Jamaica unfortunately is a very real and prominent thing. The music can sometimes inform this, as well as religion, laws and politics which in turn normalizes homophobic thinking. It makes you forget what every human being wants; love and acceptance. Migrating from Jamaica to New York, where sexuality is varied and open, made me see the LGBTQ community not for their sexual interactions but for the people they are. With the story of Jeff I wanted to tell a very human story, not the usual approach I have seen in films and  documentaries. To tell and move a story with cinema; the music, the sound, and visuals is what I love about film-making. I didn’t want to lecture with this film, I wanted to appeal to the heart.

How was filming in Jamaica?

Filming overall was a good experience. Most of the issues stemmed from a budgetary stand point; a smaller crew and not being able to get all the locations we’d hope for. Early on we figured we’d embrace these things, looking at what we did have and use that to make an even more intimate story. 

Did having Excuses for Jeff help in the production of Right Near the Beach?

Yes. Knowing the area and landscape helped. Forehand knowledge of some of the challenges and logistics, such transportation and accommodations. It also helped with the writing process because I knew which characters to tell the story best through. 

How did you develop your process for your first feature film versus making you short films?

The feature was the same approach as the shorts. Not necessarily by design but because the feature was shot in three different trips over a year and a half. The scope of things didn’t become so grandiose and production didn’t become a huge moving thing. 

What informed your visual style and soundscape for Right Near the Beach?

I want a voyeuristic view into the life of Mr. Jacob, the father. Almost like you’re eavesdropping on something you’re not supposed to see, someone in deep pain and mourning.  The movement of the camera to react violently when he’s angry, the movement slowing down in the quiet and pensive moments. Terrence Malick’s visual language was a great reference and also Lance Hammer’s Ballast.

We embraced the nature sounds; the flora and fauna that are natural to the farm and rural setting. Quiet moments were also very important so you had time to feel and get pulled into the journey. For the Mike character we used more post-production sounds, sounds that call back to his past and childhood. More mechanical sounds which underscore the demons he’s living with.  

What challenges did you face in building the style into the film?

The main challenge that we found was that we didn’t have lots of coverage on shots. With the one-take approach that we primarily used we had to shoot until we got the take that worked. This was also magnified because the cast were all local players. There’s a bit of safety in having full coverage, you can cut away to another angle or to other subjects if something doesn’t work with a particular take.

Do you feel like you made the film you set out to make, or did your vision for the film change in the film-making process?

Yes, the overall idea and feel of the story came through. However, the film process was very fluid and organic. We had to embrace everything that came along. Weather for example was a big one. It’s a tropical climate so it would rain or get overcast. Rather than waiting for these things to pass we used them to heighten moments in the film. 

How is your release going so far?

No release yet as the hope is to build an audience and buzz through festivals before we take that step. 

Where can readers catch the film next?

Not sure yet as COVID-19 has affected the festival run. Follow @DearMayFilms on Instagram for updates.

Do you have any projects in the works?

Yes, currently in pre-production on the next feature, also set in Jamaica. Can’t give much details yet but I can say it’s going be in the western style. 

What films, books, music, art can we look up to get to know you better?

Films: The cinematic language I like are that of Terence Malick, Lars Von Trier, Steven McQueen (Please watch Hunger), Thomas Vinterberg. Pretty much anything that Roger Deakins and Emmanuel Lubezki photographs.

Music: Tons of Reggae; Beres Hammond, Peter Tosh, Bob Marley, Ken Booth, Toots and the Maytals. Blues, Folk music and anything that promotes me keeping my beard.


Gibrey Allen

Follow Gibrey Allen @DearMayFilms on Instagram for updates on where to watch Right Near the Beach. You can read our full review of Right Near the Beach here.