VIVA

As quiet and reflective in its form as it is audacious in its ideas, VIVA tells the story of an old couple who spend one more night with their closest family. That is before they voluntarily end their own lives under the strange, inevitably troublesome (in political terms) service provided to them by the government in this fictional world. Writer, director and editor Marie Clare Cushinan knows how to tell an emotionally complex story. You could say that the magic trick of this screenplay is that – despite the socially provocative/reflective nature of the abstract concept – the real priority of the script is building these realistic personas. We’re endeared, entertained, and deeply fascinated by the personable conversation taking place that the more experimental idea at the centre almost goes unnoticed, to its credit. The viewer can very easily accept this plot when the people feel so genuine, which brings us to our actors...

We are very seldom blessed with a short film as impeccably performed as VIVA. Every single actor is putting in incredible work, lending the scenario’s ‘dystopic’ setup an emotionally grounded quality. As critics, one often has to look past acting in low-budget filmmaking. Since acting is a challenging practice, you don’t expect most short films to feature particularly versed performers; and yet, we are in awe of the ensemble in this piece. It is, quite frankly, mind-blowing to see such a soundly cast picture wherein everyone remains appropriately restrained in terms of emotional craft and physicality. Audiences will no doubt be moved by a multitude of tender moments, the potency of which can, in part, be attributed to the immensely talented – and shrewdly employed – cast-members. It’s a rare and special thing to behold.

Allow us to touch on the technical. VIVA is certainly a professional looking movie, the most impressive and precisely accomplished aspect of which is the lighting. There’s a slick use of light balance in the spaces on show, achieving the marvel of having these pretty setups feel naturalistic or motivated. The sound track mostly matches this level of virtuosity, but there’s the occasional inadvertent crackle which almost feels more jarring considering how clean the recording proves to be – much of this can’t be avoided and remains strong work. One thing that stood out to this critic, however, was the film’s editorial construction. This is a brilliantly cut film, especially in dialogue sequences and the apt use of psychologically motivated flashbacks. But there is one sequence, at the beginning of the short film, which one could argue requires a steadier approach. I can’t help but feel that the opening, consisting of the couple looking wistfully out to sea, should have been covered in just one or two extended shots that allow us to settle in the environment and characters. The relatively quick cutting simply doesn’t suit the moment. Despite this opening, the editing is very much industry-standard; practically going unnoticed during the bulk of the picture.

VIVA is an incredibly affecting portrait of preemptive mourning which paints a detailed, nuanced picture of individuals who know that they’re approaching their final moments. It’s a sharply directed, flawlessly performed drama which manages to subtly explore some deep social ideas.