You did it again, Hillman Curtis. I have seen short films before, usually ranging from 8- 15 minutes, and usually leaving me wanting a little more. Granted, often these films were from fellow students at my university, and showed themselves as novice work. It is funny though, they had nearly two to three times greater movie length, and told two to three times less of a story.
Even though I loved his other work we have seen, when I saw the length of the Hilman Curtis shorts, I have to admit I was skeptical. I watched several of the films, but Soldier, Embrace, and The Bridge were the three pieces that spoke greatest to me. From the dialogue, to the cinematography, to the acting, these shorts felt so natural and raw, as if the audience is intruding on the most intimate moments between characters.
In less than two minutes, I had tears in my eyes during Soldier. The dialogue was minimal, the camera focus was in-and- out, and the camera angles were shaky and unusual. BUT THAT IS WHY IT WORKED! This film was so real for anyone who has ever loved and lost someone, or had someone serve in the military without the promise of them coming home. The actors made this scene– the hope in the soldier’s eyes for his mother to hear him, and the comfort in the mother’s face as she heard her son was all too real.
During Embrace, I had that same intruding feeling. I read the description, and I didn’t know quite what to expect. Even as the two characters talked of the time with the storm, I was a little unsure of what the looming event was, yet just as storms in literature foreshadow trouble, I knew the storm they spoke of also meant bad times were coming. It wasn’t until he assured her how quickly it happened, and she calmed down did I realize that these two were preparing to die. In the wake of September 11, I imagine many of us recreated our own version of this scene in our head. What an intimate moment between two people, especially two who love each other. The shift in roles of the comforting figure was beautiful. The two actors, again, did a fantastic job of creating emotion and drama, without losing a sense of reality. My favorite part of the film was the final fade out, with the alarms sounding in the background, and the sense of calm that enters the character’s face. Without showing the explosion, we as an audience understand that it has happened, and these two people died in an embrace. I think I am going to start crying, AGAIN!
The Bridge was significantly less serious than the other two, but still evoked that same rawness. These two characters are believable, and comfortable, and that made me feel the same way. The camera movements followed the characters, not over-interjecting cuts or other editing devices. The symmetry of the room and the characters as they practiced their bridge exercises was great– it was cinematic without trying too hard. I enjoyed the struggle for the characters to trust one another to close their eyes, because doesn’t that make us so vulnerable? I think to times of prayer, or surprise, or other instances when I have to close my eyes, and trust someone else to do the same or guide me– it’s scary! Yet, when they finally do close and open them as the exercise says, they see a new truth. The play between literal and metaphorical was great.
I think that is what I enjoyed most about these shorts. They didn’t tackle large issues, but rather the most specific, close-up, sliced-down, bare-bones moment of a bigger picture. In Soldier, we know that he has died, that his mother is visiting his grave, and that he is saying good bye to her. In Embrace, we know that these two people are a couple in love, preparing to die. We don’t know how or why, and really do we care? Instead, all I cared about was that very instance of comforting they shared. In The Bridge, I don’t know who Jim is and why he won’t do these exercises with our lady character. I don’t know how long the two have been friends, and how long the man has had feelings for the woman. All I care about, again, is the very moment we witness when the two see each other for the first time, as a ‘partner’ instead of a ‘friend.’ That is the key to these Hillman Curtis short films, not trying to tackle the entire issue, but rather a single moment of raw emotion and reality. It is beautiful sometimes, it is ugly others. It isn’t filmed perfect, because life isn’t perfect. The characters are natural and unrehearsed, allowing us to peer in on their most personal moments. And just about the point, we say ‘give me more!’ Curtis says, ‘no,no,no!’ These shorts are obviously only a fraction of the bigger story, and in this case I could give a damn less about that story. Bigger isn’t better for Hillman Curtis, and I have to agree.