header image

HOME

This is the blog of Ian Rosales Casocot. Filipino writer. Sometime academic. Former backpacker. Twink bait. Hamster lover.

Interested in What I Create?



Bibliography

Friday, February 28, 2025

entry arrow1:40 PM | From French Kissers to Small People Adrift

Part 3 of the 2024 Oscar Shorts Considered

It is quite telling that of the fifteen animated short films that were shortlisted for the Oscars last December, the five that eventually made the cut and the nomination—Beautiful Men, In the Shadow of the Cypress, Magic Candies, Wander to Wonder, and Yuck!—only one was in my Top 5. Not that I didn’t like the rest of them. In fact, they are all quite good, and the nominations are totally deserved. I just liked other shortlisted titles better. That is how amazing the animation field—including both the shorts and the features—has been in the past year. As I’ve noted earlier, walang patapon.

I can see why Nicolas Keppens’ Beautiful Men made the cut. It is a beautiful dour, sarcastically funny story about three balding brothers who travel to Istanbul to get a hair transplant, and stuck with each other in a hotel far from home, their insecurities grow faster than their hair. There is always something of this kind of atmosphere in an animated short that makes it a must on the finalist round—as if the animation branch of the Academy feels the need to check themselves and say, “Hey, cartoons are not just for kids.”

But given that, what to make Jean-Sébastien Hamel and Alexandra Myotte’s A Crab in the Pool, which didn’t make the cut? It is a zany and psychedelic French look at puberty and the crushing insecurities and hormonal urges of adolescence, with an equally crushing subterfuge of death and loss, and I fell in love with this short film as soon as I finished it and realized its import: how—in its story of young siblings (an older sister and a younger brother)—we often turn to imagination to make sense of the tiny earthquakes in our lives. And what to make of Torill Kove’s Maybe Elephants, which also didn’t make the cut? It is the story of a globe-trotting family—courtesy of the mother who gets the occasional urge to leave and uproot their lives—and who finally find themselves in Nairobi where their three teenage daughters finally rebel to seek some antidote to restlessness, even as they themselves, as adolescents, find their inner lives turned upside down. It is a mature story about restlessness and roots—with an ending that approximates a kind of peace everyone is looking for.

I can see why Hossein Molayemi and Shirin Sohani’s In the Shadow of the Cypress got the nod. This Iranian short film is about a former captain who suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder, and has chosen to live, with his young daughter, in a humble house by the sea. They live an isolated life together, daily confronting the harsh challenges that come their way—but a gulf remains between them, until an unforeseen event (a whale beaching ashore) somehow changes the course of their lives. The animation of this film is dreamy in its simplicity, and the environmental and psychological story tugs at you because it is rendered so well emotionally.

But what of Tod Polson’s The 21, which didn’t get nominated? Like the war-tinged tale of Cypress, this one is the true story of the twenty-one Coptic men who were martyred by ISIS in Libya in 2015. The animation—produce in the style of Coptic iconography—is beautiful, in perfect contrast to its subject matter, which is horrifying. In the beginning, this short reminded me of the [odious] Chick Tracts I used to read and devour as an evangelical child, which often used the stories of the suffering of Christians in foreign cultures as missionary propaganda—but I also needed to check myself: This story is nevertheless true, and the victims were Coptic Christians under the tyranny of terrorists. In the end I needed to disregard religion and just focus on the basic inhumanity of this story: killing people just because they have a different faith than you is the ultimate inhumanity so far from any divine promise. That goes to adherents of all faiths. And what to make of Iain Gardner’s A Bear Named Wojtek, which also didn’t get nominated? It is another true story about another war—World War II to be exact—about a displaced and orphaned bear who finds itself in the company of a troop of Polish soldiers, forms an inseparable bond with them, and finds itself an unlikely war hero. Unlike 21, this one ends happily—but both remind us about the horrors of war, and the inhumanity it can breed.

I can see why Loïc Espuche’s Yuck! made it to the finals. Adult subject matters may intrude once in a while in the animated short film category, but a cartoon that’s clearly for kids [and the adults who delight in their kiddie charms] will still be a shoo-in for a nomination. This one is a humorous take on kids finding kissing on the mouth—done by gross adults—totally gross. [Kissing in the film is highlighted by the kissers’ lips turning bright and incandescent purple.] It centers on Léo, who laughs at these kissers together with his gross-out friends at a summer camp—but he has a secret he won’t tell his friends: his own mouth has actually begun glistening, and he wants to kiss a friend, who also wants to kiss him back. The humor in this child-centered tale is the magic formula for nomination. 

Which might explain why Daisuke “Dice” Tsutsumi’s Bottle George also didn’t make it. It makes a case for alcoholism and domestic abuse, and it does so by exploring the relationship between George, a man trapped inside a small bottle, and Chako, a young, poor, resilient girl who is scared of her alcoholic father. It has a child at its center—but the subject matter is too dark to be embraced. There is humor too in Goodbye My World [directed by Florian Maurice, Astrid Novais, Estelle Bonnardel, Baptiste Duchamps, Quentin Devred, and Maxime Foltzer]—but it’s about a man dressed in a fish costume, who suddenly finds the world coming to an end—and then he spends the last moments of the world on a wild scooter ride across downtown, crossing the chaos to reach a mysterious tower—to reach his [spoiler]. It’s all warmhearted, but the darkness of the apocalypse might be too much to warrant a nomination.

I can see why Daisuke Nishio’s Magic Candies got nominated. This Japanese short film is a delight! The story follows a boy named Dong-Dong, who never gets invited by the other kids to play—but he does not mind, since he’s fine just playing marbles on his own. Then one day, he buys a bag of colorful candies, which, when eaten, gives him an uncanny ability to see fantastical renderings of things and concepts. It was an enjoyable romp—although it made me think: is this kind of like a pro-drugs allegory? But I might be over-reading.

But what of Don Hertzfeldt’s Me, which is equally surreal as Magic Candies? Hertzfeld has always been one of my favorite animators. His World of Tomorrow and It’s Such a Beautiful Day are both must-sees if you care for animation that is substantive as much as they are fun. In his new film, he creates a more opaque, if tantalizingly non-linear, tale, which he calls “a musical odyssey about trauma and the retreat of humanity into itself.” The film, in its occasional foray into abstraction, is less accessible than his older ones, which might be why he got left off the final list—even if Hertzfeld is a former nominee. Sometimes abstraction can be a hindrance to appreciating a short animated film’s gifts. This is the case of Kei Kanamori’s Origami, which also didn’t get the nomination. Alas, the delightful film can be reduced into being just a playful and abstract romp through the art of paper-folding—even if the animation is topnotch and truly engaging. [But then again, PES got an Oscar nomination in 2012 for Fresh Guacamole, a two-minute abstract Claymation romp about the making of guacamole—not from avocado, but from everyday things found around the house.] Abstraction hindrance is certainly the case for why Anna Samo’s The Wild-Tempered Clavier, my least favorite title of the lot, did not make the cut. The film approaches abstraction in its use of toilet paper as film material, with whatever story there is being painted onto the sheets while the toilet paper is unrolled, like you would a film—all the while using the immortal music of Bach as background. I had no patience for the exercise.

Laura Gonçalves and Alexandra Ramires’ Percebes is an anomaly among all the shortlisted, unnominated titles, because neither is it abstract nor nonlinear. The Portuguese film uses the sea and urban Algarve as backdrop, and in it we follow the complete life cycle of a special shellfish called percebes—the goose barnacle. The animation, while interesting, is a bit off-putting, and the whole film comes off as a dry attempt at a National Geographic documentary. I immediately forgot what it was all about the moment I finished watching it. I understand why it didn’t get the nomination.

This leaves Nina Gantz’s Wander to Wonder, the only film in my Top 5 that also got a nomination. It deserves it, because of its conceit, its style, its humor, and its darkness. A captivating stop-motion animated short that masterfully blends nostalgia with dark humor, it centers on three miniature humanlike characters—Mary, Billybud, and Fumbleton—who once starred in a 1980s children’s television program. Following the sudden death of their creator and host, Uncle Gilly, the trio is left isolated in the studio, striving to continue their show amidst growing despair and dwindling resources. Gantz’s direction skillfully juxtaposes the innocent charm of vintage children’s programming with an unsettling atmosphere, creating a unique viewing experience. The meticulous animation pays homage to the era’s aesthetics, while the narrative delves into themes of grief, isolation, and the struggle to find purpose after loss. The characters' attempts to maintain normalcy—such as reading fan letters and producing episodes—are both poignant and darkly comedic.

Wander to Wonder has garnered critical acclaim, winning awards at festivals like Anima Brussels and receiving nominations for prestigious honors, including the BAFTA. Its inventive storytelling and distinctive visual style make it a standout piece in contemporary animation, offering a thought-provoking exploration of the intersection between childhood innocence and the complexities of adult realities. I hope it wins the Oscar for Best Animated Short.



Here is my ranking of all the animated short films, including the unnominated titles:

[1] A Crab in the Pool
[2] Maybe Elephants
[3] Wander to Wonder
[4] The 21
[5] Me
[6]Yuck!
[7] Origami
[8] Magic Candies
[9] Bottle George
[10] Goodbye My World
[11] A Bear Named Wojtek
[12] Beautiful Men
[13] In the Shadow of the Cypress
[14] Percebes
[15] The Wild-Tempered Clavier

Labels: , , , ,


[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich




GO TO OLDER POSTS