Nostalgie

When it comes to the last year of short-form filmmaking, Nostalgie is a true standout. Written by Stacey Gregg and based on the short story by Wendy Erskine, Kathryn Ferguson’s 19-minute drama tells the tale of a has-been singer, now an IT company manager, who’s invited to a remote venue in Northern Ireland to perform his hits from yesteryear. Thematically speaking, the screenplay manages to hit on many intriguing topics (recapturing one’s youth, how oppressive forces can weaponise pop music, rural areas becoming more isolated as modernity advances) without having them seem pointed or the overall piece overwhelmed. The narrative is beautifully structured; enriched with reflective, often disturbing little details; and with a turn that takes place between the second and third act which stands as one of the better-executed story shifts this critic has seen in some time. This is mainly due to the naturalness of the reveal and the believability and prescient nature of the subtext. One can draw slight comparisons between this film and Jeremy Saulnier’s uncompromisingly visceral Green Room which evokes something more explicit, yet thematically similar to this piece.

There’s a reason why within only the opening shot, you can tell this is a superior production. Nostalgie’s director of photography is none other than Robbie Ryan, a legend of modern cinematography; someone who has shot the work of Ken Loach, Andrea Arnold, Yorgos Lanthimos, and Noah Baumbach (my favourite looking film of Ryan’s is The Meyerowitz Stories). What the visual artist brings to this project is an unmatched ability to capture the texture of a location. Based on the colour, one presumes this was shot on film. Even if it wasn’t, it has that irresistible grainy characteristic, with certain frames flooded with green and pink tones. Much like Ryan’s best work, he also bases the depth of field / aperture on the lighting conditions of the moment, instead of using filters or different film stocks – thus, we get some lush soft-focus photography for interiors, and some strikingly vivid deep-focus photography for some hard-lit exteriors. All of this, for anyone interested in the technical side of filmmaking, is incredibly exciting to witness.

Director Kathryn Ferguson has arranged the film’s formal and narrative aspects masterfully. They’ve also managed to provide invaluable space to each and every collaborator’s talents. Cinematography and writing I’ve already discussed in this regard, but perhaps the most obvious place to look to understand Ferguson’s directorial skill and dramatic awareness is in the outstanding performances, especially from seasoned players like Aidan Gillen and Michael Smiley. One feels compelled to conclude on this note because, believe it or not, I believe this to be a career-best performance from Gillen who plays the protagonist of Drew. This is simply unheard of when it comes to such an established Hollywood presence being featured in a short; but the tiredness, the sense of confused melancholy, and then the hard rise and fall from euphoria to utter shame, is a testament not only to Gillen as an actor but to Ferguson as someone crafting these careful moments for him to freely exist in. Nostalgie is a real cinematic pleasure.