Tim Kidwell in “Green Frog Café”
Continuing from Saturday’s initial batch of narrative short films, Sunday afternoon offers up another batch of fictional narratives from St. Louis creators. While these collections don’t have an explicitly stated theme, this particular batch features several stories centered on grief, so be forewarned. Also, don’t worry: there’s a bit of comedy and even a thriller to break things up a bit.
In Mike Rohlfing’s “Art 101” (5 minutes), a man (Harrison Farmer) and woman (Morgan Pett) pose in togas for a live model drawing class. He sets his eyes on her and is instantly smitten, only for a more muscular model (Patrick Park) to roll in. The hitch here is that this is another 48-Hour Film Festival creation and the creative team drew the genre “silent film,” which means the pair’s jockeying for the fair maiden’s affections is done entirely through movement and facial expression, not words. Surprisingly, it works, especially because the story takes some fun, unexpected detours. And what’s a silent film without some music? Fortunately, Brent Johnson’s jazzy score (featuring sax by Eric Gargrave) supports the cartoonish action quite nicely.
Ava Farrar’s “Garbage Man” (16 minutes) is a subtle yet powerful exploration of grief. The titular garbageman, Roger (Buddy Van Arsdale) is a man in his 70s who picks up trash around his neighborhood. He’s feeling lonely and isolated as it creeps up on a year since the death of his beloved wife, and the film follows him as he solitarily celebrates her birthday. A recent graduate of Washington University’s Film Studies program, Farrar impresses with a keen eye for framing her shots and an ability to let them linger for emotional impact without lingering so long that it makes the film drag. The film is punctuated perfectly by an excellent pair of tunes from Farrar’s famous dad Jay, the Son Volt requiem “Tears of Change” and a hopeful instrumental from his hugely underrated side project, Gob Iron. Props too to Van Arsdale, who impeccably captures the quiet desperation in Roger’s lonely celebration of sorts.
Thriller is a tough genre to pull off in short form, but tension drips from every frame of Nathan White’s “Meridian” (16 minutes). Delmer (Roxana native and SIU-Edwardsville grad Oliver Bacus) has a clandestine late-night meeting with the governor of Missouri, the right honorable William Hackney (Richard G. Briggs). But Delmer isn’t who he seems—he’s wearing a wire, and him and his pal Jef (Dereis Lambert) are hoping to trick the governor into accepting a bribe and agreeing to a quid pro quo on tape, but of course the slimy public servant has been getting away with it far too long to get caught that easily. Short films are usually short because that’s all the story there is to tell, but this one left me ready to sign up to watch a 90-minute version to see where the story goes from here.
Brendan Bickel’s “Tears of the Clowns” (16 minutes) is the one short in this cohort that didn’t quite work for me. Rachel (Maryah Stewart) is a waitress by day and aspiring standup comic by night; after an epic bomb, she’s ready to give it up until she’s approached by Rich (Bill Conklin), a long-retired comic who saw potential in Rachel’s material even if her bundle-of-nerves delivery didn’t let it shine, and asks her to pen him some new material for a comeback set at an upcoming showcase with a cash prize that Rachel desperately needs. That’s all off to a good start, but then Bickel, a recent Lindenwood film school grad, starts veering into melodrama, and despite some strong performances from the leads, it doesn’t land with the same honesty of other dramatic entries. There is definite potential, and hopefully we’ll get to see Bickel develop his voice in future showcases.
Cory Brandon Clay’s “Green Frog Cafe” (25 minutes) is much more subtle at tugging on the heartstrings, and hits all the harder for it. At first, it doesn’t seem like it’ll get there—we meet Steven (Joe Anselm), the lead songwriter in a trad-country band who’s slowly drinking himself into oblivion. But it’s not because of band drama or alcoholism: his mentor, Jack (Tim Kidwell), is reaching his final days, so Steven and his girlfriend/co-lead singer Dar (Jessica Ambuehl) skip their gig and head out to the country to see Jack at his home and play for him for what is strongly implied will be the last time. The implication here is the important part: Clay doesn’t beat you over the head with the gravity of what’s happening, he lets us understand what is happening and what it means to Steven, Dar, and Jack (especially Jack, with Tidwell fully embodying the old cowboy riding off into the sunset) in the pauses and the things left unsaid as much as the things that are said. Oh, and in the music, which is all gorgeous, plaintive stuff. The cinematography is also a love letter to our state, utilizing drone shots and road footage to capture the beauty of rural Missouri while the local live music mainstays like Pop’s Blue Moon, Off Track Saloon, 1860s in Soulard, and (most prominently) Stovall’s Grove in Pacific all make appearances.
Webster University alumni Mason Beck’s “Your Last Wishes” (20 minutes) also has grief on its mind: when Tristan dies unexpectedly, his roommate Sammy (Sam Sweere) is left with the unenviable task of carrying out his final wishes, a list consisting mostly of telling people how he really felt about them—conversations that, if they were easy, Tristan would have done while he was still alive. It’s a story about all the different ways those left behind find their way to keep on living, and while it’s not an easy watch especially if you have lost loved ones and the wounds are still fresh and I wasn’t a huge fan of the way it wrapped up, it succeeds in telling its story honestly and avoiding easy platitudes.
After a main course that leans so heavily on sorrow and death, this group of short films could definitely use a palate cleanser for dessert, and it gets one with Zach M. Hearst’s “Freakout” (8 minutes). Jacob (Max Murray) is getting stoned with his burnout buddies, but just when his friends start to laugh thinking Jacob is a maybe little too high, he snaps back to sobriety when he starts to hear…a narrator? A silly premise handled smartly with lots of really fun gags and a playfulness with the media of storytelling in general and film in particular.
The 24th annual St. Louis Filmmakers Showcase runs from July 19 to July 28. The B group of narrative shorts program will screen at the Hi-Pointe Theatre (1005 McCausland Ave.) on July 21 at 2:30pm, and tickets are $15, or $12 for students and Cinema St. Louis members. (And if you like group B, stick around for group C at 5:00pm.) Multi-film passes are also available. For the full list of feature films, shorts, and master classes or to purchase tickets, visit www.cinemastlouis.org/24th-annual-st-louis-filmmakers-showcase. | Jason Green
