The OUFF Short Film Festival Mega-Review
Trigger warnings: brief allusions to torture and serious illness. Discussion surrounding struggles with sexual identity, and gender dysphoria.
The Oxford University Filmmaking Foundation (or the OUFF, for short) is a group that supports and funds independent student filmmakers at the university. Since being founded in 1981, the OUFF has built up its reputation as a tour de force of Oxford’s creative scene, so expectations for their inaugural Short Film Festival - showcasing 27 films across 12 screenings in 5 venues - were, understandably, high. In this patchwork mega-review, the Student Film Journal team describe, in their own unique reviewing styles, their top picks from the festival, and what it was like to be in attendance.
- Lucy
Meg’s take
One to make you think: Mazel Tov (Eli Zuzovsky)
Before beginning my review of Zuzovsky’s ‘Mazel Tov’, I would like to acknowledge Charley’s opinion (with which I agree) that the closing scene of the film, in which the main character Adam appears onstage in a dress, lacked nuance. This was a scene that should have been approached differently, and its inclusion problematises the film as a whole. I will be leaving this discussion to Charley, whose opinion on this matter changed mine, and, so, the focus of my review will be on the film’s coming-of-age plot, which I found the most potent on my first watch.
“The best film I’ve seen all year” was the first thing I said to Kaly after the screening of Mazel Tov finished. High praise, indeed. To be fair to all the other films out there, I am chronically indecisive, so choosing favourites is very much contingent on mood/company/circumstance. Additionally, talking about the film afterwards with Charley (whose view you can read later in her take) has nuanced this opinion. The year is also very young, but, nevertheless, I think this short film by Zuzovsky will definitely be a fierce contender, as has been recognised by a number of notable critics already.
The plot follows a young boy, Adam, on his Bar Mitzvah: “it’s supposed to be the best day of your life,” he says. Spoiler - it almost certainly was not. People assume that coming-of-age is a process (insert English student point about ‘coming’ being a transitive verb), but it seems, for Adam, his Bar Mitzvah is a moment-of-age. Suddenly, he is an adult, who sees the mess behind the facade of maturity that is adulthood, and has to grapple with his own sexuality and insecurities.
I found the telling of the story from a child’s perspective refreshing in a piece so serious and mature, especially since the film captures so well a sort of lucidity, which seems too precocious for a childish simplicity. These complexities are honoured by Zuzovsky’s cinematography: focusing on lurid yellow light to denote a sort of incubation period when Adam hides in the bathroom, and bright blue lights when he is out in the open on the stage, with all eyes on him and his ‘big day’. Might I just add that this is all acted by a really phenomenal cast - the star, Adam, is a natural actor who offers no pretence that he is acting at all, appearing timid and troubled amongst his French-Hebrew linguistic jumble.
When discussing the film on the walk home, Kaly and I both agreed that there was something about it that was weirdly familiar and nostalgic. Neither of us are Jewish, have attended a Bar Mitzvah, or been to Israel, or any war-torn country for that matter. But the film allows audiences to permeate through time, grasping the pure experience of growing up. Adam’s vulnerable suffering was palpable, and I’m glad the film chose his perspective as its focus, giving the audience the opportunity to *imaginatively* nurture him as he deserved.
This is, perhaps, the reason why many notable critics are getting so excited about the film. I’m not by any means a connoisseur, but I share their clairvoyant opinion that Zuzovsky will be making waves in the film industry for years to come - a burgeoning talent who is definitely one to watch.
One that makes you feel: With Teeth (Daniel Curtis)
I did not expect to be as engrossed in this psychological horror as I was, and it certainly deserves a special mention as a real gem amongst all of the other phenomenal screenings. It follows the story of a stroke survivor, battling to regain his autonomy after the debilitating loss of his speech. The film approaches the topic through scenes in which chains and torture wrestle his mouth, and intimate and fragmentary flashbacks liberate the viewer's attention from the film’s setting of a local therapist’s office, reminding us that the *crucially nameless* main character’s daily life is defined by the confines of setback and slippage. Grotesque manglings within his imagination demonise the therapist and his own body, which seems intent on his failure. It’s a harrowing portrait of the recovery process in which the surreal is made hyper-real, proving that silence can be more than deafening - it can be deadening.
Charley’s take
Before moving onto my review proper, I would like to mention that I did not enjoy Mazel Tov as much as the other members of the SFJ team. Although I appreciated the craft on display, I found the script to mishandle the confused, potentially transgender narrative that it seemed to be attempting to tell. Whilst the idea of a boy coming to terms with a potentially trans identity at the crucial point that he becomes a man sounds interesting on paper, I often found the film to paint these strokes rather too broadly, and, in turn, fail to give this specific part of the story enough of a focus to solidify its point. Its over-reliance on hyperbolic extremes of the transgender coming-out experience, and the disappointing lack of nuance in its portrayal of both the angst and the euphoria of it, left me, at the close of the film, feeling only slightly uneasy and unsure.
Regardless, I still greatly enjoyed much of the offering on display at the film festival. As a result of this, instead of just offering an overview of the festival, I’ve decided to focus my review on the two films that reflect my eclectic taste in film. The two that I have chosen are wholly opposite to each other, and yet equally loved by this writer: the slapstick comedy Pratfall, directed by Django Pinter, and the empathetic docu-short Icarus, directed by Sanaa El Alaoui.
Let’s begin with Pratfall, my favourite from the festival. The premise is simple: two failing clowns attempt to succeed in alternative jobs before, instead, deciding to ruin their former colleague’s burgeoning acting career. The film’s unassuming plot, with its unassuming style and its unassuming characterisation, is actually its greatest strength. In a world where much of cinema takes on a self-conscious, serious meaning, Pinter has made a film in which the potential for emotional catharsis is deliberately subverted wherever possible, and, in doing so, has made one of the most purely and gleefully entertaining watches I’ve had in a long time. Much like the clowns with which the film is concerned, the dialogue zips along at a breakneck pace, filled with puns and cleverly orchestrated situational asides, whilst the editing and cinematography provide some of the most inventive physical slapstick I’ve seen this side of Paddington 2. However, what really stood out to me were the performances of the central double act, played by Tom Anderson and Rupert Sandler. Sandler, in particular, had such perfect comedic timing - bringing joy to my evening in all of his slight mannerisms, gurning faces, and wry punchlines - that his performance became my singular favourite of the festival.
Meanwhile, on the exact opposite end of the film spectrum, we have Icarus. The moving effect of this simple and empathetic docu-short – a portrait of Ignac Radics, a homeless man living in Budapest, and his musings on life, death, and all things in between – was so subtle that I could feel it burrow deep inside me as the relatively long run-time proceeded. The motif of an ‘upside down world’, in which aerial shots of the city in question appear flipped, provided an uneasily melancholic, but still strangely beautiful, lens through which to view this man’s life. This worked, overall, to produce a profoundly human story, told from the perspective of someone who has such a depth of understanding about the world, and yet rarely has anyone to tell about it.
This film, set against the broad comedy of Pratfall, conveys exactly what I appreciated most about the festival: its showcasing of a large selection of short creative bursts, all with different tones and meanings and from across a range of backgrounds behind the camera, and all of which remained equally personal in their own way. Even though these two may be my favourites of the screenings I attended, the festival came together as a collection of wildly different people, telling the wildly different stories that they wanted to tell. And isn’t that what film is all about?
Kaly’s take
“I want to experience your full student life.” That’s what my mum told me when I asked her if she wanted to come with me to the Tuesday screenings of the OUFF Short Film Festival, during her visit to Oxford. I was expecting to walk into the screening as an uncompromising film critic and hard hitting journalist, representing SFJ with my networking handshake at the ready. However, after an afternoon of watching TV with my mum and being spoiled with pastries from the nice coffee shops in town, I felt much more like an excitable kid ready to be entertained - a role which, I must admit, suits me a lot better. We were welcomed into Mansfield College’s auditorium by students just like me and you, chatting away as they waited for more people to arrive. We chose the seats that we thought would give us the ultimate viewing experience and, as our surroundings disappeared under the cover of the dimming lights, my mum and I found ourselves immersed in the pure enjoyment of watching films that were clearly made by genuine film-lovers.
Rosie Robinson and Natasha Ketel’s Eighteen was, by far, the film which had the biggest impact on me. After it was over, I turned to my mum with a big smile, a glowing sensation growing in my chest. “I knew you would like that one.” she said to me with a knowing look in her eyes, laughing maternally at the memories of my own high-school ups and downs. Eighteen follows best friends Sophie and Anna as they reunite after Sophie’s holiday in France. The girls laugh, poke fun at each other, and hype each other up in such a believable way that, as I watched, I felt the sunlight of my own summers back home shining on me, even in the darkness of the auditorium. Gossiping in bathrooms during house parties, romanticising relationships with each other, picking up the pieces when everything has gone to shit - the script beautifully captured the powerful intimacy shared by friends in these small moments. It was brought wonderfully to life by Gayaneh Vlieghe and Frankie Weatherby, playing the girls, whose dynamic made theirs a love worth rooting for. The music was both youthful and filled with nostalgia - definitely a highlight of the film. I was especially affected by the music and editing in a montage between Anna and her boyfriend, Ollie, which was both heartwarming in the moment, and heart-crushing when looked back upon at the end of the film. Although I am slowly growing further and further away from that first touchstone of adulthood, Eighteen tugged at my young heartstrings, and gave me a sudden urge to text the groupchat a soppy but love-filled message.
I couldn’t end this review without briefly mentioning some of the other great shorts I saw throughout the week. Bruno Atkinson’s Dusklands was a fantastic and poignant watch which powerfully confronted Oxford’s ugliest colonial roots with charm and humour. Fencer was another highlight, for very different reasons: a heartwarming and funny Charlie Chaplinesque silent film, which left me and my mum smiling long after it had finished.
All in all, the films that we saw gave me and mum lots to talk about on our walk back. We talked, not only about the films we loved and how they made us feel, but about the creativity and passion that went into each one, which made my mum feel as if she’d truly seen the best of ‘student life’.
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We’d like to thank the Oxford University Filmmaking Foundation so much for having us, and we urge all of our SFJ readers to attend next year’s festival. And, if you’re lucky enough to be a creative soul just waiting for their big break, why not get involved on the filmmaking side? Maybe it could be your film we’re reviewing next year…
