The Untranslatable Forest

“It can hardly be a coincidence that no language on Earth has ever produced the expression: ‘As pretty as an airport.’” This Douglas Adams quotation opens The Untranslatable Forest – a two-minute animation about language in which we’re taken through rooms and spaces within a psychedelic, abstractly presented airport; each space merging the natural world with artifice.

The animation itself, speaking of its technical construction, is three-dimensional computer-generated animation. Pleasant colours and textures displayed in what one could point to as a kind of ‘videogame’ aesthetic (just to give you an idea of its appearance). It looks wonderful and is artfully done. This is partly to do with what the animation is depicting and the complex, thought-provoking design elements at play. There’s a sensory aspect to the filmmaking, an immersive journey through locations, feelings, sounds and ideas which – ironically enough – might be difficult to describe with conventional language. But that’s part of the beauty of it.

To name a couple of examples: brown leaves are dispensed through the ticket machines and float down to the ground; branches and bushes are being scanned through security in glass boxes; and the plane itself is filled with grass in the aisle and a river above. It’s really a gorgeous thing to witness, like a provocative art installation which utilises collage and bright contrasting colours to both disrupt the spectator’s perception as well as appeal to the eye.

In the space of less than three minutes, an audience will find themselves simultaneously calmed and transfixed by what they witness onscreen. Directors Ivan Miguel and Andy Camou have done an intelligent thing by taking this Douglas Adams statement and running with it in the most expressive, unusual manner possible – but outside of form, it’s also a most socially direct piece. The film draws our attention to how languages are being lost over time, almost as if it’s a living organism which – like the natural world and the impact of global warming – is being damaged irreparably bit by bit. This subconscious, visual parallel between words and greenery makes us care deeply for the languages we’re reading onscreen and hearing through the soundtrack.

A word should also be spared for said soundtrack of the film – both in the awe-inspiring score and the pleasing audio design. It’s as if the sounds of nature, grass swaying and leaves falling have never felt so satisfying. To combine the natural and technological, in the most careful and structured way, scratches a certain itch in the brain.

In The Untranslatable Forest, the filmmakers do indeed manage to make an airport setting appear almost overwhelmingly “pretty” (as their opening mission statement establishes). Through the use of slick, textural animation, the viewer is fixed to the screen as we glide omnisciently through the world of the film. We’re then hypnotised by the experimentation on show in the form of these juxtaposing textural concepts elegantly becoming one. But it’s the overarching message which leaves one deep in contemplation once the credits have finished rolling. An outstanding micro-short, filled with depth and innovation.