Sunday, March 28, 2010
The Joy of Shorts

I couldn't help but hearing the two young women as they left the Michigan Theater.

They were talking about Jack Cronin's short film Sleeping Bear, which screened in closing night's Awarded Film Program 2.

"What was the point of that?" one asked. "I mean, were we supposed to be impressed because it was black and white?"

"I thought it was all right," the other piped in.

"You liked that?"

"Kind of."

And they disappeared into the bathroom.

Fifteen years ago if I had watched the same short film, a quiet evocation of a visit to Michigan's Sleeping Bear Dunes Lakeshore, I probably would have had the same reaction as the first woman.

Countless movies later, I can appreciate Cronin's patient meditation on the natural world, the way we experience it in a more immediate way. Sleeping Bear isn't about picture-postcard beauty or the grand idea of a natural setting but rather the small details that add up to a whole. When we encounter the natural world it isn't only through our eyes. It's the sounds and feel of a place. It's the bugs crawling through the loam and the pattern of sunlight that breaks through the upper branches of a tree and the way the breeze draws tears from our eyes. In 11 short minutes Cronin's film, if you let it, reminds you of what it feels like to be in the details of a place without revealing the big visual picture.

In many ways, this is a terrific way to experience the Ann Arbor Film Fest as a whole. Don't get hung up on the weird tangents, odd misfires or herky-jerky rhythms of the programs. Instead, lose yourself in each moment. Accept what's coming at you, roll it around your brain pan then decide whether you liked it or not. Whether it moved you. Or frustrated you. Or challenged you. The joy of the short film program is that no matter how off-putting, alien or uncomfortable a film might make you, there's another one just around the bend. Maybe the next will make you laugh your ass off. Or tweak your sense of nostalgia. Or just plain impress you with its virtuosity. Unlike any other film festival you'll attend, AAFF rewards its audiences by surprising them. There is no formula or predictable plot to follow. It isn't safe. But with the right attitude, it's immensely rewarding. Come out next year.

-Jeff Meyers
Jeff is a film critic with the Metro Times (catch his reviews there or on Rotten Tomatoes) and the managing editor of e-mags Concentrate and Metromode. He is also a screenwriter and filmmaker.

back to home

Posted at 9:07 PM  |  Permalink