Category: REVIEWS

By Halli Burton.

If you’re a parent to a small child, then perhaps you have a better chance of enjoying this film. Its narrator is an adorable Hispanic boy, Julian Atocani Sanchez, who shares his story about finding a ‘small guitar’ and the promise he made to his sick abuela (grandma) to write a song for her.

His abuela, unbeknown to his mismatched parents, is the reason why Sailboat has had an obsession with boats since he was a baby, although as far they were concerned he’d never seen one before. She also imparts sayings which the wise-beyond-his years Sailboat uses to explain the unexplainable.

But I digress. There’s something quite moving about watching a film through the eyes of a child. Sailboat’s innocent observations of everyday life are both heartwarming and hilarious: His Dad’s obsession with a stick that holds up their rickety house in what looks like the remotest part of the US of A; his Mum’s love of meatballs; his odd accident-prone school teacher; and his unblinking football fanatic best friend, Peeti, brilliantly portrayed by Keanu Wilson.

With the help of a music lesson CD lent to him by his classmate who has a soft spot for him, Sailboat writes a song, one so magical that whoever hears it is mesmerised and overcome by deeply buried emotions. Not only does the song bring its listeners to tears, it even renders the film’s audio to a long beep until Sailboat plays his last strum! Most importantly, Sailboat’s tune appears to put an end to the enduring drought that was crippling his hometown.

However, despite the commendable performances by the entire cast, unfortunately that’s where the magic ends. A disappointing conclusion given that Sailboat’s tale is so convincing you’d be forgiven for thinking that you’re watching a docu-drama. Kudos to director, Cameron Nugent, for getting Oscar winner J.K. Simmons to star, however small his role might be. Worth mentioning that his brief interaction with Sailboat is delightful.

A Boy Called Sailboat is slow to start and even slower to finish. Should it have been a feature film? No, I don’t think so. It would’ve worked better as a short, which could have easily been achieved by culling several scenes, I won’t go into which ones but they’re glaringly obvious.

I really wanted to love this film and there are several aspects of it that I did thoroughly enjoy, notably the picturesque cinematography, the script and the children. But it’s not enough for me to give it a 5-star rating.

A Boy Called Sailboat is in Digital Download now.

By Megan Williams.

Snare was one of the short films that was shown at this year’s Tribeca Film Festival.

Set in a Chinese restaurant in 1997, a young son and his dad meet up to reconnect and realize that they desperately need something from each other in order to pursue their dreams.

This film uses its short running time to give its audience an important message: no matter how old you are, you are allowed to have talents and dreams; settling down in life is not the ‘be all, end all’. 

The two lead actors (Steve Rodgers as Steve; James Fraser as Jobe) are perfectly cast, and their interaction with each other is believable. The juxtaposition between Jobe, the son, and Steve, the Dad, is also brilliantly told: Jobe is in a mildly successful band, and is about to embark on a tour around Japan, with financial help from his parents. Meanwhile Steve has quit his job to follow his dream of becoming a drummer. Once the latter is revealed, the control of the situation shifts from Jobe to Steve, as he uses blackmail to achieve his dream. 

This makes for a very tense atmosphere, and the tension is done extremely well. While there isn’t a musical score running throughout the whole film, it does occasionally feature to either heighten the tension, or to prove a point in the narrative. An example of the latter is during the final scene, where Jobe decides to listen to his Dad’s mixtape that he had previously written off. Upon hearing the drumming, Jobe’s surroundings appear to fade away as he only hears and sees his parent’s talent and potential. James Fraser’s reaction to this is fantastic and tragic, as he realizes his mistake of shunning his father, essentially throwing away his chance of touring. It’s a very powerful ending. 

While the small amount of score is featured to serve a purpose, it would’ve been nice to have more drumming featured, especially during a silent moment after the pair have had an argument. The film does demonstrate at the beginning that drumming is on Steve’s mind, but this should’ve been shown more, as well as being explained to the audience.

‘Snare’ is a very moving film, with an important and relevant message: people are allowed to have dreams and new-found talents no matter how old they are. Just because someone has settled down and had a family, or has a career, does not mean that that is it. You can pick up a new hobby or discover a new talent at any age. And, while life may throw obstacles in your way, this should not discourage you. Because of this, ‘Snare’ would appeal to people of all ages, and I would definitely recommend this short film to anyone.

By Fergus Henderson. Anhedonia, named after the depressive’s inability to enjoy things they once did, lives up to its name. It follows miserabalist musician Kino (Liam Blundell) as he sets off on foot to visit his dying mentor Vespucci (Paul Fanning), unperturbed by the hundreds of miles between them. In fact it is the kind of punishing, bleak walk suits the self-loathing, coke-sniffing man.

He is tailed by two mysterious characters working independently from each other who are tasked with stealing the tape Vespucci has asked Kino to bring him, a mysteriously powerful artefact that renders the listener semi-comatose. One is working on behalf of the police, the other is the villainous Philistine (Ross Leyshon), a weird man with a slow smile who is driven by an obscure hatred for art.

This is one of several self-financed films that independent director/producer Michael Henry has made since he founded his own production company Quartz. As such, we are immersed in a film entirely on Henry’s terms, following its own idiosyncratic spirit and beholden to its own whims.

Henry has styled Anhedonia as a metaphysical thriller, and given that it features dream worlds that resemble a corporate version of David Lynch’s Black Lodge that the character enters into in order to have his true self revealed to him, as well as a murderous villain with a gun, it would seem to be one. In the film’s many lapses into surrealism Henry proves great aptitude for making the most of his budget, and he is adept at conjuring places that feel otherworldly in both set and editing. Clearly Henry is a skilled filmmaker.

Beyond the aesthetic signifiers that the film leads with and that are used to demonstrate the film’s metaphysics (Lynch, Wim Wenders’ road movies, maybe even under-appreciated cult classic Radio On), it ultimately comes down to the film’s eponymous diagnosis. Kino is a depressed man who cannot connect with those most important to him. His quest is an inward looking one and his moments of revelation come from simple conversations.

There is much to admire in Anhedonia, and it is especially refreshing to see a British filmmaker using such ambitious and lofty reference points to guide their film. Unfortunately there is also something of a disconnect between the film’s emotional core, which becomes clearer and more heartfelt as it goes, and the chilly, surreal execution. It is in fact quite a simple story that, at its emotional peaks, allow both lead actor Blundell and villain Leyshon to lay bare their souls. That this is the story it is telling renders the first-act surrealism, well-executed though it may be, an overemphasised red herring.

There is both an impulse towards telling a sincere story on the one hand, and on the other conjuring a dark, weird world full of absurd tableaus and stylised performances. Neither quite fit in with each other. This of course is the nature of independent filmmaking: without an outside voice Henry is free to make decisions that are true to his vision. Even if Anhedonia is a little ponderous and overlong, it is still an audacious film worthy of respect.