Short and Swell CFC Films

In some ways, good short films are like good-looking people who don’t get Botox. They’re fascinating to look at and their faces betray real emotion. In some ways this analogy is ridiculous, but then again, a little ridiculous storytelling can be lovely.

Wednesday evening film fans, family, friends and former graduates of the CFC (Canadian Film Centre) gathered at International Village in Vancouver for a screening of four CFC short films. Thanks to some pretty rad friends I was invited to attend that screening, and I accepted, even before I was promised an after party with free drinks. All were made this year by the talented participants of the intense and prestigious CFC Short Dramatic Film Program. The creative teams behind these short gems, directors, writers, producers, editors and the casts clearly had great stories to work with and came together to do some fine work.

I was impressed and excited by the diverse creativity displayed in these shorts, and I can be really judgmental. A lot of the time.  The program began with brief introductions and congratulations from the director of CFC Film, Kathryn Emslie. This was followed by a few words from local producers and recent CFCers, Lauren Grant, one of the producers of Parkdale, and Jessica Cheung representing Oliver Bump’s Birthday.

First up, the urban grit and emotional grind of Parkdale. Children trapped by the mistakes of their parents travel through a Toronto night in search of money, food, and escape. They encounter friends and suspect-friends, but throughout their hunt they’re fused together, the thought of separation their greatest fear in the dark streets of the city.

Next came the quirk and heart of Oliver Bump’s Birthday. A unique tale of a twelve-year old dreamer who is slated to die on his 13th birthday, as all his hyper-intelligent siblings have before him. An entertaining, odd and oddly sweet meditation on mortality, creativity and the importance of forging your own life, giving breath to your dreams. It also included some exceptional use of recorders. And really fetching matching tweed shifts and creamy blouses. I would like to wear the hell out of one of those.

I wanted to claw my way out of the theatre during the claustrophobic and heartbreaking humanity on screen in Silent Cargo. A harrowing depiction of illegal immigrants travelling in a cargo container. Most dialogue wasn’t spoken in English, which made it difficult for a viewer to turn away from uncomfortable scenes on the screen, which was probably the intention, so good job folks. You got my attention.

And to cap off the screening, the offbeat, hilarious and troubling (though still quite hilarious) riff on folk tales and love stories and farm animals, The Secret of Goat. If you enjoy off-the-wall folk tales, clever-storytelling, lederhosen, goats and erection jokes I can safely say that this will fuel all your fantasies and more. Yes, and more. And yes, there is a strong element of the ridiculous. Never have I laughed so hard at the deadpan expression on the face of a goat.

For after party we moved to a small bar just outside the theatre and delightful  conversations and drinks were flowing. I’m not sure how my two complimentary drink tickets turned into twenty, or how I managed to eat my own body weight in flatbread, but I do know I  had myself a pretty sweet night out at the cinema.

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