In today's update, allow me to make a jump to the past and highlight for you some of the short film reviews I wrote from AMP back in the year 2019. I am sharing these purely out of sentiment because even though the short film themselves may not be unavailable, it was an interesting experience for me writing these reviews.
1. How Can You Know Where to Go If You Do Not Know Where You Have Been (2018)
World War II is undoubtedly the most tragic global event of the 20th century. Apart from serving as the symbolic warning for future generations, it also became a source of inspiration for various representations in many cultural domains, including cinema. We all are probably familiar with the “war film” genre which encompasses action-adventure stories, anti-war manifestos, and tales of trauma. Mizuki Toriya's animation is none of these. Her short film How Can You Know Where to Go If You Do Not Know Where You Have Been serves as an intimate testimony of her grandmother about the difficult times when Japan engaged into war with the United States and Great Britain.
The 6-minutes-long film is a recorded conversation between Toriya and her grandmother that is accompanied by paintings animated in a stop-motion fashion. The grandmother recounts from her personal perspective the beginning of the war, how she lived with her family in the city of Kobe, the subsequent destruction of Kobe, the family's life in the suburbs, and the arrival of the American forces after the war's official end.
How Can You Know Where to Go If You Do Not Know Where You Have Been appears to be a deeply personal and delicate recounting of World War II experiences. Although the viewers may initially long for a more standard visual component (the video recording of the conversation), the animation actually enhances the viewing experience. The grandmother's tender voice combined with simple, yet eye-pleasing, paintings by Dean Aizawa are enough to get the viewers' attention.
The message of the short film is quite clear: ordinary people do not make wars, but governments do. The grandmother rightfully remarks that peace is the best and no country should ever go to war. We, on the other hand, should learn from these rare testimonies of people who experienced the atrocities at first hand.
Try to find some spare 6 minutes in your busy schedule and check out How Can You Know Where to Go If You Do Not Know Where You Have Been if you can. It is a peaceful story that will certainly leave you thinking about the past. Its importance is even heightened by the recently commemorated 80th anniversary of World War II's outbreak.
The 6-minutes-long film is a recorded conversation between Toriya and her grandmother that is accompanied by paintings animated in a stop-motion fashion. The grandmother recounts from her personal perspective the beginning of the war, how she lived with her family in the city of Kobe, the subsequent destruction of Kobe, the family's life in the suburbs, and the arrival of the American forces after the war's official end.
How Can You Know Where to Go If You Do Not Know Where You Have Been appears to be a deeply personal and delicate recounting of World War II experiences. Although the viewers may initially long for a more standard visual component (the video recording of the conversation), the animation actually enhances the viewing experience. The grandmother's tender voice combined with simple, yet eye-pleasing, paintings by Dean Aizawa are enough to get the viewers' attention.
The message of the short film is quite clear: ordinary people do not make wars, but governments do. The grandmother rightfully remarks that peace is the best and no country should ever go to war. We, on the other hand, should learn from these rare testimonies of people who experienced the atrocities at first hand.
Try to find some spare 6 minutes in your busy schedule and check out How Can You Know Where to Go If You Do Not Know Where You Have Been if you can. It is a peaceful story that will certainly leave you thinking about the past. Its importance is even heightened by the recently commemorated 80th anniversary of World War II's outbreak.
Getting to school is usually such a trivial activity that most parents and children do not pay major attention to it. However, there are some remote areas in the world where a child has to travel a significant amount of distance in order to receive the desired education. Rian Apriansyah's short film called 15.7 KM tackles this issues in an original way.
The 15-minute-long story presents us with a young boy named Budi from Banka Isle in Indonesia. We observe how he prepares himself in the morning and eventually sets out on a long journey to school. In order not to damage his socks and shoes, he walks barefoot through forests and plains. After crossing a lake in a small boat, there is a slight chance that he may hitchhike. Ultimately, the boy arrives at his destination, puts on the socks and shoes, and begins his school day.
The most striking aspect of the film is an almost complete lack of any dialogue, apart from occasional interjections uttered by the passers-by on Budi's route. In the style resembling that of Yasujirō Ozu, the film exposes the stillness and beauty of Indonesian nature which serves as the setting for Budi's repetitive journey. In order not to confuse the viewers about the compression of space within the 15-minute time span, a distance counter pops out once in a while.
Even though there is not a lot of stuff happening in the film, director Rian Apriansyah provides a sensitive portrayal of an (in)visible problem, not only prevalent in Asia, which should be resolved in some way. Until then, Budi and many other children are forced to travel the way they do so that they could properly educate themselves.
Towards the end of the film, one feels as if the story could have been continued. I strongly hope that there is a possibility for a full documentary feature. Maybe then the message about building standard education facilities for children would resonate more. To conclude, 15.7 KM is a very informative and eye-pleasing little film. We need more dialogue-free pictures in modern cinema.
The 15-minute-long story presents us with a young boy named Budi from Banka Isle in Indonesia. We observe how he prepares himself in the morning and eventually sets out on a long journey to school. In order not to damage his socks and shoes, he walks barefoot through forests and plains. After crossing a lake in a small boat, there is a slight chance that he may hitchhike. Ultimately, the boy arrives at his destination, puts on the socks and shoes, and begins his school day.
The most striking aspect of the film is an almost complete lack of any dialogue, apart from occasional interjections uttered by the passers-by on Budi's route. In the style resembling that of Yasujirō Ozu, the film exposes the stillness and beauty of Indonesian nature which serves as the setting for Budi's repetitive journey. In order not to confuse the viewers about the compression of space within the 15-minute time span, a distance counter pops out once in a while.
Even though there is not a lot of stuff happening in the film, director Rian Apriansyah provides a sensitive portrayal of an (in)visible problem, not only prevalent in Asia, which should be resolved in some way. Until then, Budi and many other children are forced to travel the way they do so that they could properly educate themselves.
Towards the end of the film, one feels as if the story could have been continued. I strongly hope that there is a possibility for a full documentary feature. Maybe then the message about building standard education facilities for children would resonate more. To conclude, 15.7 KM is a very informative and eye-pleasing little film. We need more dialogue-free pictures in modern cinema.
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