★★★★ Directed by: #MarieLouiseDamgaard Written by: Marie-Louise Damgaard Starring: #EllenHillingsø, #XeanPeake, #JesperAronKaplan Short Film Review by: Corey Bulloch “I just want to be a completely normal teenager” No matter your race, creed, or gender everyone wants to feel that they belong as Marie-Louise Damgaard’s film explores the social and familial pressures of a transgender child in a delicate yet uncomfortable setting. All teenagers feel uncomfortable in their own skin but having intimate details of your sexuality and identity become a topic of gossip during a family function is a new level of mortification. Mathias, son of Susanne and formally known as Katrine is set to take part in the sacrament of Confirmation. Before family and friends and God, Mathias shall take part but he wants no attention drawn to himself, something that Susanne cannot allow, as his private transition becomes his mother’s public crusade. Damgaard makes the film difficult to watch in such a respectful way as the transphobia is reflected through awkward faux pas, ignorance and even how support can be more about the cause than the person. The film is not a progressive diatribe but rather about how the emotional connections between mother and child have no boundaries with Damgaard’s message of acceptance applying to all, ally or enemy we all must be better and listen. It’s one of these films filled with unbearable second-hand embarrassment as you empathise with Mathias’s anxieties despite Susanne’s lioness mothering. Ellen Hillingsø as Susanne is tremendous, embodying that prideful mother who will do anything to protect their child but The Confirmation asks if her headstrong behaviour is more in service to her son’s wellbeing or her pride and seeking recognition for the entire struggle. Her need to protect Mathias blinding her to what he actually needs, a relatable conflict for any parent. Hillingsø, Xean Peake who plays Mathias and the entire cast feed into the authenticity of what Damgaard wants to explore, that the transition into adulthood is a difficult one and one that parents need to let their children make on their own. The confirmation is the first step in Mathias becoming a man, something that has been a continuous struggle for him his whole life. Obviously symbolic of his gender transition with Damgaard’s script marrying awkward family functions with our own ignorance to transgender issues. Many guests ask Susanne and Mathias about his transgender status and it all stems back to this inability to recognise the emotional weight to this struggle and trivialising it as a phase or even a joke. Robin Holtz’s cinematography is striking with focus and use of lighting and colour, whites and red really pop as the seemingly natural light gives everything a stunning quality. The Confirmation is just able to get under your skin as Damgaard broaches topics that are controversial but necessary to display how it doesn’t have to be. The strains to Susanne and Mathias's are no different from any other parental relationship, it doesn't diminish the transgender obstacles but makes them universal. Everything leads to making the film be about the acceptance of differences between ourselves and leaves a beautiful heartwarming message for all audiences. #CoreyBulloch #shortfilm

★★★★ Directed by: #RobHurtt Written by: #RobHurtt Edited by: #AnureeDeSilva Starring: #EricColvin #TobyAlexander #PaulOShea #MaxineFone Film Review by: Albert Sowerby-Davies A strong tradition of social realism has produced some of the best and most urgent movies to come out of the British film industry over the past seventy years. While masters such as Mike Leigh and Ken Loach are now well-known to mainstream and some international audiences, filmmaker Rob Hurtt’s I Remember April demonstrates that the genre is still being reinvented from its roots in independent British cinema. I Remember April – interestingly shot by Rob Hart and well-edited by Anuree de Silva – serves up some of the cold realities of life in a deprived London borough with a warm and tender smile. On a bleak nondescript high street, Dougie (Eric Colvin), a middle-aged man in a dirty tracksuit, is confronted by Billy (Toby Alexander), to whom he owes some money. “I haven’t got it!” Despairing, Dougie can only promise to pay back tomorrow. Plenty of gangster-movie tropes are at play here. A guy owes some money to a loan shark, but he can’t pay it back, so he’s pressured with violence. If this were a typical gangster film, Dougie or Billy might get shot and the rest of the story might follow the winner. But Hurtt slows everything down. He’s more interested in who Dougie might be and how he might’ve ended up in the position he finds himself in. So, he has Dougie escape and begin to tell a segment of his life story to Dave (Paul O’Shea) – a caring shopkeeper with a gentle Irish accent who’s willing to listen. Dougie has long, complex stretches of dialogue which actor Eric Colvin performs impressively and with the requisite tone and subtlety. Colvin's measured and patient delivery is tense and fascinating to watch. Hurtt choreographs the conversation so that Dougie and Dave speak straight at the camera, as if they were talking directly to you. Dougie’s stories are of faded grandeur and loss. He used to be a boxer and used to have a beautiful wife, but there’s not much left to show for any of it now. My inkling is that a lot of us will know how it feels to be in Dave’s position, trapped with a stranger who loves talking about their own past and doesn’t care too much for the truth. Perhaps there’s something that links this disregard for the truth with boxing, too. Boxing is a proud profession which requires unbreakable self-belief and bravado. That’s why I’ll credit Hurtt for his skilled observation when I say that I was myself once stuck for the good part of a two-hour train journey talking to a ‘former boxer’ who had a lot of Dougie about him. It has been said that realism is by definition critical – that holding up a mirror to a broken society necessarily criticises it. This is why Dougie’s retreat into his own head is as much an interesting narrative and plot device as an important political and social critique. It begs the question, what kind of world has he retreated from? Answer: the bleak one of poverty and crime outside. I Remember April ends with The Lovely Rain, a song performed by Society of Imaginary Friends. The song and images that accompany it allow us to reflect on the strange beauty of Dougie’s melancholy, and remind us of our own struggles and shared humanity. This sad but warming ending achieves what social-realist films should always set out to achieve – in an increasingly individualised world lacking in human connection, it makes you feel empathetic towards others. #AlbertSowerbyDavies

★★★★★ Directed by: #StephanPierreMitchell Starring: Ahmed Hussain Siddiqi Documentary Film Review by: Chris Olson Deleted Movie Review Instead of video games becoming a series on Netflix, I would like to see Ken Loach’s enduring film I, Daniel Blake turned into a series of true-life mini docs. Real stories of Britain’s poor getting a twenty-minute slot would be a great start in uncovering the tragedy that so many people and families are living with in a “first world” country in 2020. The sad reality would be that we would need about a million seasons. However, I have the perfect debut episode: Stephan Pierre Mitchell’s outstanding short documentary Deleted. Starring Ahmed Hussain Siddiqi, a fifty-something divorcee who’s about to be made homeless by the Department of Work and Pensions. After having his benefits suspended for late payment, Ahmed falls into the lower echelons of our unforgiving system, one that is computerised and optimised to be uncaring. Ahmed tells us about his experience, how he would change it, and how anyone can become a victim. Movies about #homelessness have a built-in layer of pathos from which to grow, however, there is also an immense sense of duty tell a story without succumbing to the tragedy and being buried by the large social issues. Director Stephan Pierre Mitchell treats Ahmed with intense scrutiny, utilising a plethora of closeups, various angles and shots, as if asking us to inspect him like we work for the DWP. The result is a phenomenally heartbreaking and visceral experience of what governmental apathy can do to someone’s humanity. Ahmed switches from bolstered confidence about getting himself out of his situation, to breaking down at the gruelling reality for so many others across the UK. His one-man army faces a formidable foe, whose bureaucracy is as lethal as tear gas. Much like other filmmakers who have tackled themes of homelessness in the UK, Stephan Pierre Mitchell comes at it from the human level. Deleted could have been a documentary made up of tens of thousands of similar stories, forming a patchwork of misery. However, the potency of one is far more powerful. As the old adage goes; one death is a tragedy, a million is a statistic. And it is the statistics that really gives the movie its wider scale of devastation. We are shown terrifying facts such as: nearly 600 homeless people died in 2018, and over 90,000 evictions were caused by the DWP’s late payment system. If Marvel are looking for their next villain now that Thanos is gone, they should start looking at Westminster’s admin office. There is beauty and hope to be found in Deleted too, though, with Ahmed waxing lyrical about the strength of community, camaraderie, and even music. Whilst his struggle and journey is full of turmoil there are also moments of friendship (such as neighbours who make sure he’s eaten). The narration is key to this documentary’s success and through the words spoken by Ahmed in a myriad of different tones and emotional states, we are able to find our own humanity and treat him how he would have wanted - as a person. #ChrisOlson Watch the Short Movie Trailer

★★★ Directed by: #RobHurtt Written by: #RobHurtt Starring: #PaulKelleher, #EricColvin, #AnnaLeongBrophy Short Film Review by: Shrubaboti Bose The opening scene is marked by an old school romantic song played on an electronic device, the melancholic lyrics emphasising the overall gloomy mood, “I hope that I don’t fall in love with you, ‘cause falling in love just makes me blue” while the sound of rain and thunder outside makes us somehow anticipate an impending danger. Here, it is important to note how the protagonist stands with his back to the camera. When he turns to us, we notice how the set is small and almost claustrophobic giving us the impression of a den or a cave. Scenes are shot in close-ups, zooming mainly on the facial expressions of the actors than focusing on the objects surrounding them. The protagonist appears to be a mafia lord even though he describes himself as being a “respectable businessman”, dressed in a formal attire with a matching black tie, and using polite diplomatic language. When he gets emotional while reminiscing about his wife, May, he uses a red satin handkerchief to wipe his eyes. On a whole, he has a personality that exudes a certain dark aura of dominance and power. Especially, his low-pitched voice and the measured tone of his dialogues laced with sarcasm and a tacit imposition of his own authority as someone who is confident about his control over the situation at hand. Paul Kelleher's acting seemed heavily inspired by Marlon Brando in The Godfather, however, one must also appreciate the sincerity and accuracy with which he delivers his lines and punctuates them with his pauses, enunciating each word with careful diction. He uses words like “a two-bit punk nightclub owner”, and “cheapskate” when he addresses Bradley which reflects his deep resentment and contempt for the man. It is significant to note that the faces of the characters are frequently left in the shadows or half-lit, effectively heightening the existing tension and suspense in the sequence of events that follow. In comparison to the refined appearance of the protagonist, Mr. Bradley who is brought in by a mysterious gorilla-masked underling of the boss is clad only in a ragged sleeveless white vest, blood stained and badly beaten up. His left eye had already turned black and blue with bruises. He seemed to be in a pretty bad shape. The director has deliberately created such a stark contrast in the depiction of the two characters with the help of their different costumes and the difference in the position of their heights to mirror their power status. The repetitive gun shots aimed at Bradley even after he is dead proves the immense disgust the protagonist held in reserve for the guy. The violence is more hard-hitting when we realise that he had also got his wife, May, killed, despite loving her, mainly instigated by his feelings of jealousy and anger at being cheated. The presence of the masked juggler perhaps signifies fate and how everything is ironical in reality. The broken vows of the marriage haunts us as the film ends with the echo of, “I love you sweetheart, forever.” and what remains lingering in our mind is the hollow laughter of the protagonist towards the closure. This film efficiently captures the essence of a spirit of vengeance and portrays the revenge carried out through a brief, chilling encounter.

★★★★★ Directed by: #MikeJohnson Written by: Mike Johnson Starring: #TimTialdo (narrator) Film review by: Alfie Kaye “It can be argued more is known about other planets and star systems than our very own oceans,” Tim Tialdo portentously narrates to the audience, which helps explains the motive behind Mike Johnson’s ambitious, competently researched six-minute documentary, Oceanic Aliens. This breathtakingly-shot documentary consists of footage of relatively unknown marine species compiled by Johnson’s own personal dives in the Pelagic Black Water in Kona, Hawaii. Ask even the very best of photographers and they will all tell you that shooting under water is no easy task, yet, Oceanic Aliens share the same awe-inducing aesthetic qualities of Blue Planet II – managing to convince you, you are studying the species under the most intrusive of super resolution microscopes. The score is both metronomically operatic and hauntingly fantastical - beautifully capturing the wonderment of the oceans and the fantasy-like undertaking of the explorations; its eerie, melancholy quality also helps to remind us of the lack of the film’s contemporaries and the research still needed to truly understand the oceans. The beautiful use of sound, and the stunning solar-like visuals would not amount to much in a documentary that is poorly researched and intellectually unengaging; Oceanic Aliens manages to be both intellectually-stimulating and an impressive piece of filmmaking. The intense research required to pull this off makes the documentary all the more commendable and watchable. I defy anybody who watches this and does not frantically google the names of other obscure marine species to conduct your own research, such is the breadth of alluring detail. There is only one disappointing aspect of the film: it’s not long enough. This is by no means a criticism; in fact, it's a further endorsement of the film: once it ends, you do wish you were watching a feature-length documentary on the very same subject. On his description of the film, Johnson writes: “hopefully this short documentary will inspire some to do more [documentaries].” Yes. I agree.

Filmmaker Interview by Chris Olson I recently caught up with #filmmaker Alexander Tuschinski and the subject of his upcoming documentary, The Songwriter of Botnang. Gerda Herrmann was born in Germany in 1931 and has been writing music since her early 50s. She just finished her 394th song a few days ago. Gerda, how did you meet Alexander? In 2008, Alexander graduated from Dillmann-Gymnasium in Stuttgart. Shortly before that, we got to know each other at a concert there. He then submitted his poem “I Sat on a Stone” and the score for his song “Internet Love” to be included in our anthology überBrücken, and performed it competently at a reading in the Stuttgart City Library. We kept in contact until 2012, but I reached out to him again in 2018 when Stuttgarter Zeitung wrote positively about the premiere of his film Timeless, and I congratulated him on it. Alexander, what made you interested in doing this documentary? I find it highly inspiring how Gerda Herrmann has always managed to remain positive and creative even when facing the most difficult times, like growing up during World War II. Visiting is always a wonderful experience. As we eat cake, we talk about all kinds of topics, and then she often performs her newest compositions and discusses them in a wonderfully warm and unpretentious way. One day, I spontaneously suggested filming the documentary, since I wanted to preserve the experience and show others what our visits are like. My idea was to interweave her art with her fascinating first-hand accounts of history. Gerda’s memory is amazingly detailed and she still has many letters, photos and other souvenirs from her life, which I thought were ideal to illustrate the film. Gerda, what did you think when Alexander proposed this documentary? Were you excited? Had you ever thought about appearing in a film before? I was very surprised and had to laugh when Alexander mentioned calling the film The Songwriter of Botnang. I had never thought of a documentary film about me and with my participation. On the occasion of my 80th birthday in 2011, I had a book of my poems printed. It was called Lebenslinien — in Versen nachgezeichnet, and I continued my musical biography in six volumes that contain the scores for opus 1 through opus 342. In addition, ten anthologies have been published containing texts by young people — about 25% of them with international roots — that testify to my commitment to creative writing, because language is very important to me. That was sufficient as a “legacy,” I thought. Alexander, how did the filming proceed? Did you do a lot of pre-production? Initially, there was little planning. A regular conversation is not planned, and, similarly, I wanted to let the film “develop” its own structure during the course of filming. After agreeing to do filming, I visited Gerda by myself, carrying a camera and some small lights. The first day, I interviewed her about many topics, and she played the piano and showed me a few photos. From this, I assembled an initial 17-minute edit. I sent it to Gerda and she liked it. Then I asked if she had more photos, which I then filmed during my next visit. On each subsequent visit, I filmed new footage about topics that I felt would benefit the film, edited a new rough cut overnight and then sent it to her the next morning, proposing new ideas. Sometimes, Gerda also contacted me with ideas for topics, and over the course of about seven or eight visits, the film was created. Gerda, how did you prepare for the filming? How did it feel to be in front of a movie camera? The first day of filming was quite spontaneous. Little by little I found pictures and old letters that showed my roots on my mother’s side in Botnang. In the beginning, it was quite difficult for me to describe my childhood experiences while looking directly into the camera. Alexander, I noticed some interesting cinematography when Gerda plays the piano. How did you shoot those scenes? I love to make scenes visually interesting. We filmed with one camera, so Gerda played each piece three or four times so I could get all camera angles. I did no story-boarding, I “built” the scene in my head while filming and decided spontaneously what kind of camera angles or moves should be next. Initially, I thought that editing different performances together would present a challenge; but during filming, I saw how remarkably precise Gerda is at keeping tempo and intonation when repeating a piece — you could overlay audio from one take with visuals from another, and in most cases, they would be in perfect sync. Gerda, I am fascinated by the way the film interweaves your life story and your music. How the two are connected? Has your style evolved or changed over the years? When I find a text that I like and that touches me, I set it to music. I find them in various places, for example in calendars. Over the years, melody and piano accompaniment have become much more simple compared to when I started in 1984. This may be due to the “finger technical” possibilities in old age or because of the maxim: “Man, concentrate on the essence!” (Note: This quote is from a poem by Angelus Silesius, saying: “Mensch, werde wesentlich.” Literal translation: “Human/Man, become essential”). Alexander, how did you choose which music to go into the film? On the first day, we filmed the songs “Feminist Moritat” and “Tanderadei.” Gerda happened to play them for me one day, and I asked her to play them again for the film. We also filmed her looking at concert footage of her song “Der Panther,” which I found a particularly strong musical piece. It’s based on Rilke’s poem. While editing, I felt that several songs mentioned by Gerda should be heard as well — like her very first piece, “Elegie,” or the song based on her father’s poem. When the film was almost done, I suddenly noticed there was a long segment in which we heard no music at all while she talks about her childhood and World War II, so I asked her which instrumental pieces she could play that fit the mood. It was fascinating to “dive into” her oeuvre while selecting those. Gerda, when the film had its world premiere in Germany, how did you feel? The premiere at Delphi Arthaus Kino in Stuttgart was an emotionally intense experience for me: To see myself on the big screen (I could never have won a beauty contest), and then to receive so much positive feedback from people around me. At the Q&A afterwards, with the microphone in hand next to Alexander, I was able to make the audience laugh. All in all, the premiere was a wonderful present for my 88th birthday which was on the day after. Thank you, Alexander! Alexander, what are your plans with the film? I have submitted the film to various international film festivals. After its festival run, I will be looking for different ways of distribution. My main goal is to reach as many viewers as possible, as I think Gerda’s art and her way of thinking are quite inspiring. While she has been creative in various fields all her life, she only “properly” started composing songs when she was 53 years old, and by now, she has a big and impressive oeuvre as a songwriter. It’s never too late to start expressing yourself creatively — that’s one message that viewers might keep from watching the film. Gerda, do you have any messages for our readers from your life experience? My maxim is: Neither lose courage nor sense of humour! That’s what I advise others, and I often say it to myself. Interpersonal contact is very important for me, too: When a friendship with a fellow student of Turkish origin was in crisis, my youngest son made such a beautiful statement: “We are sitting in the same tree, at the same height, but on different branches.” I have continued this thought in a song: The roots are deeply founded in many cultures worldwide, its blossoms are different, even the fruits taste different — protection and care are important, so that the tree may thrive — as my life’s dream. (Note: Here, Gerda Herrmann quotes one of her poems that rhymes in German: "Schutz und Pflege sind wichtig, dass gedeihen kann der Baum – als mein Lebens-Traum.") Gerda, we have a recurring question that ends all our interviews. It is a kind of a running gag. Alexander responded in the past, and so now I ask you: What would you say if you were a dolphin? As a dolphin, I would look for waters without plastic waste and I would always make beautiful sounds. #ChrisOlson #Documentary #FilmmakerInterview Watch the Movie Trailer for The Songwriter of Botnang below.

★★ Directed by #NicolasPesce Written by #NicolasPesce #JeffBuhler Starring #AndreaRiseborough #JohnCho #LinShaye #JackiWeaver Film Review by Hope Madden Any time a film is remade, you have to ask why. Not to be cynical, but because it’s a legitimate query. Is there a compelling reason to watch this new one? Nicolas Pesce hopes there’s reason to watch his retooling of The Grudge. The Grudge began in 2000 with Takashi Shimizu’s Japanese horror Ju-on, which spawned three Japanese sequels and now four English language reworkings, two of which Shimizu directed himself. His 2004 version starring Sarah Michelle Geller became a tentpole of our J-horror obsession of the early 2000s. Pesce, working with co-writer Jeff Buhler (The Midnight Meat Train—that was your first problem), pulls story ideas from across the full spate of Ju-on properties and braids them into a time-hopping horror. Is there room for hope? There is, because Pesce landed on horror fanatics’ radars in 2016 with his incandescent feature debut, The Eyes of My Mother. He followed this inspired piece of American gothic in 2018 with a stranger, less satisfying but utterly compelling bit of weirdness, Piercing. And then there’s this cast: Andrea Riseborough, John Cho, Lin Shaye, Betty Gilpin, Jacki Weaver, Frankie Faison, Damian Bichir—all solid talents. You just wouldn’t necessarily know it from this movie. Pesce’s basically created an anthology package—four stories held together by a family of especially unpleasant ghosts. But that one sentence contains two of the film’s biggest problems. Let’s start with the ghosts. Shimizu’s haunters—Takako Fuji and Yuya Ozeki—were sweet-faced, fragile and innocent seeming. The perversion of that delicacy is one of the many reasons Shimizu’s films left such a memorable mark. Pesce’s substitute family loses that deceptive, macabre innocence. The way the film jumps from story to story and back again undermines any tension being built, and each story is so brief and so dependent on short-hand character development (cigarettes, rosaries, ultrasounds) that you don’t care what happens to anyone. Jacki Weaver, who seems to be in a comedy, is wildly miscast. Go-to horror regular Shaye has the only memorable scenes in the film. Riseborough, who is a chameleonic talent capable of better things, delivers a listless performance that can’t possibly shoulder so much of the film's weight. Jump scares are telegraphed, CGI and practical effects are unimpressive, editing is uninspired and, worst of all, the sound design lacks any of that goosebump-inducing inspiration Shimizu used to such great effect. So, no. There was no reason to remake The Grudge. #HopeMadden

★★★★ Directed by: #JaeminPark Written by: #MelBrannon Starring: #MubarakMajid, #ShilElsa, #SyafiqDharma Short Film Review by: Rachel Pullen Coofie and Sexy Dress Movie Review Things aren’t what they used to be; smoking is not cheap, landlines are obsolete, I don’t have to visit Blockbuster for my movie hit...god I really miss Blockbuster, there is one in Alaska....excuse me, I’m off to Alaska. Another thing is men don’t run a household anymore, it’s not the 50s, in fact women take on not only equal amounts of the 40 hour working week [as well as still having to do all the house work and care for the children etc...thanks society] but we are able to dress and act how we please...thanks society. But in some places this is not the case, for example areas of the Middle East it is frowned upon for women to show a lot of skin as well as their hair, and as a father, the last thing you would want is to see your daughter not playing by the culture’s rules, my father does not want to see me dressed in my Bill Clinton costume again, but come on dad, people want a laugh at a funeral. Short film Coofie and Sexy Dress delves into the relationship of a father and daughter, a dynamic that is strained due to her desire to dress freely, show her hair, and live her life how she pleases...but daddy is not pleased. He is grumpy, foul tempered and it’s not just because his daughter won’t play ball, this fool has gone and got a loan shark swimming in his waters. Now a loan shark is not easy to defeat, not unlike real sharks that you just bop between the eyes and they get all flustered, no these loan sharks have left dead chickens on his doorstep with blood written letters, demanding he pay up...wonder where they get the time for such home crafts. Needless to say daddy is spooked. He runs...he hides...he tries to find a Blockbuster...the stress. But the story of Coofie and Sexy Dress plays out as you can easily imagine; daddy gets deeper in with the sharks and they decide to get all punchy in the face with him, while daughter discovers the dead chicken, blood letter combo and comes to the rescue with the cash, that she earned...as a model, you go girl, you get that dollar. With the storyline out the way, let’s talk about the movie stats...acting, boom, it’s effortless and well composed, from the dramatic unfolding of the father’s world, to the more introspective performance of the daughter, each of the actors carry their roles with professionalism and ease. #Cinematography is passable, it’s obviously shot on a small budget, but that does not mean it looks cheap, and with director Jaemin Park’s choice of angles and shots we are given an enjoyable viewing experience. This story is a little tired sure, daddy wants to help his family but is ashamed of how he is doing so, daughter who appears the black sheep actually saves the day...yeah we know it like the back of our hands, but the performances, the energy and the feel good factor at the end, all make for a surprisingly fun #shortfilm. #RachelPullen

★★★ Directed by: #FrankHarriman Written by: Frank Harriman Starring: #JonathanMarkwood, #HaqiAli, #JulianBoote, #JasminEgner Short Film Review by: Corey Bulloch Cultural differences and confronting our own mortality are the themes at play in Frank Harriman’s short film about a man facing execution in a foreign country. David Taylor portrayed by Jonathan Markwood is a man who after a series of unsuccessful international appeals is to be hanged in a Middle Eastern country. The film chronicles a series of visits David receives in his final hours. Harriman’s script briefly explores various ideas such as the differences between western and eastern cultures as David argues his crime of adultery is not suitable for the punishment he has received. The law is the law argues, Amir Rahimzadeh’s Governor Asfouri with the idea that western ideology is superior to other world views and should be exempt from condemnation. Despite adultery being a sin, David finds his upcoming execution to be a cruel joke and that he should not be punished Nothing is really given a chance to ruminate though as the shifting characters force David to confront all manner of emotions in short time but the effective cinematography alongside Markwood’s passionate performance make Go With God an intriguing exploration in accepting your own death. Harriman doesn’t delve deep into the question of whether David’s execution is right, no character takes joy or pride in the events occurring as David has the sympathies of the Governor and prison guard. It’s more about the empathy that people share together as David’s visitors consist of someone who sees him as a criminal, someone who sees him as a victim and one who knows him as a friend. It may get a little melodramatic towards the end but Harriman’s direction seems to want to capture the clarity one can receive when accepting the inevitability of death rather than just condemn the morality behind capital punishment. Confrontation, regret and fear drive David’s behaviour, Markwood frames it through a British bravado like he’s a character stuck in a bind during an action film. Sarcastic, cynical, chain-smoking, trying to claim moral high ground but it's clear that his facade is barely holding on as with each visit, David breaks a little more. Markwood falters in places with some overacting and the script goes for some obvious arguments but David is a sympathetic character as you imagine yourself in that situation. This idea of being punished for something you can’t perceive as a crime is terrifying, to not truly understand why you are going to die and be powerless to stop it. Andrew Rodger’s cinematography isolates the audience inside David’s cell, camera work focusing on close-ups and illuminating sunlight through the window, unable to escape from the reality of his situation. Sound design is a letdown, breaking immersion with sudden cuts and pitch changes harming the performances. It undercuts so much of Harriman wants to achieve. Despite faults, Go With God is an effective short film from Frank Harriman tapping into subconscious fears and faiths that we all hold about ourselves and the lives we lead. #CoreyBulloch #Shortfilm

★★★★ Written and Directed by: DejFM Starring: Geoffrey Maccarthy, Rasak Obanigba and David Omordia Film Review by: Owen Herman The latest offering from short film director DejFM provides a real taste of comedic talent. Dej, whose recent works include the excellent contemporary drama Coincide and the solidly creepy Knock a Door Run, has returned to tackle the comedy genre in short form. Yet again, he proves himself to be an up and coming director to watch, with the writing ability to match. The film’s tag line, “An ordinary house party”, may suggest that there is some mysterious and particularly strange underpinning to a modern film audience so used to the somewhat sarcastic and euphemistic style of classic movie tag lines. However, here it couldn’t be more forthright; the film’s simple setup is just an ordinary house party. Set both during and after the party, Flavours uses this clear and familiar idea to tell jokes and explore group dynamics. It is a flavour of modern culture that is both smart and joyfully crude. A smart decision is made right from the off with the first half of the film containing no dialogue. Instead, the scenes set during the party only have the soundtrack for audio, leaving the visuals to take the atmosphere this creates and tell a story with it. Some solid performances – in particular the lead Geoffrey Maccarthy – make sure this works. Both the actors and camera manage to convey story and humour effectively, and with some clever editing turn the lack of dialogue from hinderance to advantage. This allows the film to feel somewhat more naturalistic, placing you inside the house party, unable to hear individual conversation and instead forcing you to piece together by judging reactions and body language. It’s clever stuff. The second half of the film plays in completely the opposite way with one continuous steady shot capturing rapid-fire dialogue. It is a bold move to completely switch up the film, but it pays off and manages to up the comedy by introducing a new style with its colloquial and quick-witted dialogue. The conversation zips from one character to another, with excellent chemistry uniting the three young performers. It manages to feel both natural and well-crafted. Overall, the film plays as one big joke, with the final pay-off effectively being the punchline. This is hard to pull off, akin to creating a tense build up to a great scare. Despite this, the film manages to pull this off by creating a solid rhythm of small jokes within the reaction shots of the first half and dialogue of the second. Short, but effective, Flavours delivers on its comedic premise in an original and entertaining way.

★★★★ Directed by: #DannyWu Documentary Film Review by: #ChrisBuick When Leaving Neverland was released in early 2019, it featured some shocking revelations and created a maelstrom of renewed discussion and opinions regarding the accusations mounted against global pop superstar Michael Jackson, alleging sexual abuse of multiple young children at his home at Neverland Ranch, a shadow that hung over him for the rest of his life until his death in 2009. But by relying almost solely on the stories of two alleged victims, it arguably also left us with a lot of questions about the validity of its claims. New documentary Square One from Chinese-Canadian filmmaker Danny Wu takes another look at these now infamous accusations, it's main focus being the case of Jordan Chandler, the first accuser to ever come forward. The legal case put forward by the Chandler family was seeking millions of dollars in damages from Jackson after alleged sexual abuse of their child, and the film investigates how these charges seemed to be maliciously orchestrated by Jordan's father Evan as part of a bitter custody battle with the boys mother in the hopes of extorting the late musician. The film also asks why if these claims were true, would they not want Jackson convicted rather than a simple pay-out and if this was the case that unfortunately opened the door to the several similar attempts that the late musician had to endure for the rest of his years? Where Leaving Neverland drew many blanks on physical evidence to support its claims, Square One is ready to back itself all the way. While Jordan Chandler himself is not present in the film (he has not spoked publicly since that time), the film gathers first-person accounts of several witnesses from various areas of Jackson's life, including Jackson's nephew and others who were children present at the Neverland Ranch at the same time as Chandler. There are even witnesses from inside the Chandler camp themselves refuting the claims themselves, along with transcripts supposedly detailing the conspiracy that Evan Chandler was launching against Jackson. But the film doesn't stop with this single case, it also looks at the long line of Jackson accusers since, some with a history of unfounded slander against prominent public figures and most simply looking to get the next big scoop in what was a never-ending media frenzy that essentially subjected Jackson to a trial by public-opinion, perhaps one of the first to be subjected to such a practice that seems to be more and more commonplace today. It seems that there have been several counter-arguments raised against the revelations found in Leaving Neverland, but Wu's film manages to stand tallest amongst them all. Wu never lets the film get tainted with speculation, choosing instead to present the facts as they stand and allow people to make up their own minds. Though opinions will forever differ on this debate that continues to rage on, Square One is a simple yet carefully though-out presentation of facts and testimonies, never resorting to conjecture or hearsay, but simply trying to set the record straight and a must-see for those seeking further education on the subject. #ChrisBuick

★ Directed by: #MaximillianAguiar Starring: #BillCollins, #LoganDiemert, #WaseemAad, #KathleenHansen, #AmandaGraeff, #KeltieNylund, #RichWillhelm, #AlexPace, #AnnaLindstrom Film Review by: Darren Tilby The Doors Between Us is a hard watch. Not because of a challenging subject matter, but because it’s so poorly put-together and executed. The premise is simple: four groups of two people, each locked in a room with another person who seems to be their polar opposite and with no idea how they got there. What should have been a tension-filled character study is instead an incoherent, overlong, and oft obnoxious back-and-forth between eight deeply unlikeable characters. The Doors Between Us does get off to a good start. The camera flies towards the house, twisting as it goes, in glorious black and white, while the ominous humming of the film’s score helps to set a mood of impending dread. Indeed, both the soundtrack and Eric Paton’s cinematography, particularly the exterior shots, are consistent and strong throughout. However, the exterior shots are few and far between and the interior shots, which make up the bulk of the film, are nowhere near as visually pleasing. It’s okay, the film doesn’t need anything spectacular in that regard. The technical aspects of this film certainly have some redeeming qualities, sadly, they aren’t nearly enough to remedy the film’s other shortcomings. One of the most significant issues for me and the first one you’re likely to notice is the characters themselves. First off, the character introduction, a crucial moment in any film that’s supposed to help us to empathise with these people, is, instead, 15-minutes of near incoherent babbling, unconvincing angry shouting, and less than witty insults being thrown around. Because of this, we (the viewer) get off to a bad start with pretty much all of the characters. This is a problem the film is never able to resolve, mainly due to a weak script (“Touch my stick.” “Only if you touch my bed.”) and almost nonexistent character development. The performances, too, overplay the contrasts between the characters and regularly feel forced, awkward, and, occasionally, offensive. There is an attempt, however, to wrap the film up with a message of acceptance in each other’s differences—which is commendable. But it’s ill-judged, poorly executed, and meaningless with the lack of any significant character development. But what’s worse is the fact several of the characters don’t get a resolution at all; their fates are left unknown. This, for a film with an almost 2-hour long runtime, is a huge problem. And at nearly 2-hours in length, The Doors Between Us crawls along at an achingly slow pace, which is dragged out right until the end. I became disengaged from this film on more than a few occasions for this reason. There’s no justification for the film’s runtime, and most of it is spent going back and forth with the same old arguments between the characters, who really don’t seem to learn anything. At the same time, we learn absolutely nothing about why these people are held captive or who has done it. The characters themselves can be quite problematic, with certain portrayals and (re)actions being more than a little insensitive. With a bit of tightening up, a shorter length and more concise writing, The Doors Between Us could have been an interesting film; a character study on tolerance. Unfortunately, it just isn’t.