Six of the best films from the Aesthetica Short… | Little White Lies

Festivals

Six of the best films from the Aes­thet­i­ca Short Film Fes­ti­val 2019

12 Nov 2019

Words by Hannah Clugston

Person lying on skateboard in outdoor park setting, with foliage and structures visible in the background.
Person lying on skateboard in outdoor park setting, with foliage and structures visible in the background.
York’s annu­al show­case of ground­break­ing short-form cin­e­ma returned for its biggest ever edition.

In Mar­tin Smatana’s stop motion ani­ma­tion The Kite – one of 400 short films pro­grammed at this year’s Aes­thet­i­ca Short Film Fes­ti­val – the cen­tral char­ac­ter is caught by the wind while fly­ing a kite. With flail­ing legs, he shoots sky­wards look­ing out across the vast land­scape spread­ing out beneath him, con­struct­ed from an array of patch­work textiles.

A vis­it to the ninth edi­tion of this expan­sive fes­ti­val in York can feel a bit like this. With hun­dreds of films cov­er­ing sub­jects as var­ied as the dream life of mon­keys and the last sup­per, the world is revealed from all sorts of angles, through all sorts of pairs of eyes.

Last­ing no more than 30 min­utes, these suc­cinct films get right to the point, cre­at­ing a cat­a­logue of impact­ful snap­shots that res­onate long after exit­ing the cin­e­ma (or, in ASFF’s case, the beau­ti­ful his­toric build­ing host­ing the screen­ing). Here are six of our favourites.

In 1970s South Africa a white teenage boy skates through the glit­ter­ing, sun-soaked streets. Sug­ar Man’ by Rodriquez plays over spliff shar­ing and hazy after­noon dri­ves. In an afflu­ent leafy neigh­bour­hood, the pro­tag­o­nist intro­duces two black friends to an aban­doned swim­ming pool per­fect for skate­board­ing. The eupho­ria of wheels speed­ing across con­crete is soon blunt­ed by the arrival of the author­i­ties and the rude reminder that this is a free­dom only afford­ed to those of a cer­tain race.

A painter­ly ani­ma­tion fol­lows three young men as they jump head­first into uni­ver­si­ty life in Liv­er­pool. When a new friend alters the dynam­ic of their famil­iar child­hood bonds, the line between ban­ter and bul­ly­ing becomes hard to define. Explor­ing alco­holism, tox­ic mas­culin­i­ty, depres­sion and the strength of friend­ship in just 15 min­utes, Rough­house proves that the best ani­ma­tions aren’t reliant on intri­cate scenery or fan­cy illus­tra­tive tricks but good old-fash­ioned storytelling.

So-called dimwit” Bar­ry and for­mer lover Lin­da, sit face to face beneath the cold lights and out­dat­ed fur­nish­ings of a social club. Lin­da eats cold beans from a can and Bar­ry details how the bin bags under the table con­tain pieces of his grand­moth­er, who he recent­ly mur­dered and chopped up. Deliv­ered in a dead­pan monot­o­ne with some sur­re­al buck­ing bron­co rid­ing thrown in for good mea­sure, Norteños was cer­tain­ly the wor­thy win­ner of the Best Com­e­dy Award.

Nick­named Sodom and Gomor­rah”, Agbog­bloshie in Accra, Ghana is home to one of the world’s biggest e‑waste sites. Con­se­quent­ly, it is a hot spot for the West­ern media to preach the ills of irre­spon­si­ble waste dis­pos­al. Fed up of see­ing his com­mu­ni­ty through such a neg­a­tive lens, local teacher Abdal­lah gives cam­eras to two young boys, empow­er­ing them to engage in edu­ca­tion and tell their own sto­ry. The doc­u­men­tary blends the kids’ insight­ful and fun­ny footage with cap­ti­vat­ing por­traits of the locals and sur­round­ing landscape.

Suit­ably placed in the Exper­i­men­tal pro­gramme, Play off­sets the famil­iar tropes of adver­tis­ing – brand­ing, emo­tive lan­guage, child­hood mem­o­ries, bright colours, excit­ing music – with the hor­rif­ic tale of a son wit­ness­ing the mur­der of his moth­er. We watch, as he relives the events through a TV set whilst his mum stands behind him in the kitchen furi­ous­ly grat­ing her own hand. Con­fused by the sub­ver­sion of the usu­al cin­e­mat­ic sig­ni­fiers, we are thrown into a world that is both repul­sive and appeal­ing in equal measure.

Clara and Marie are not meant to be friends. As the run­ner-up and win­ner of Miss Chazelles-sur-Lyon, respec­tive­ly, their fam­i­lies use them as tro­phies to fight over. The cam­era rarely strays from the fram­ing of Clara’s face, where we can watch in detail her ambiva­lence over los­ing, her joy in Marie and her dis­tress in the ongo­ing con­flict. Togeth­er, the swel­ter­ing heat, close cam­er­a­work and ten­sion of the script, makes for an oppres­sive envi­ron­ment where the mere pres­ence of a beau­ti­ful young woman becomes volatile.

For more on this year’s fes­ti­val vis­it asff​.co​.uk

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