Short films are very rarely in the public spotlight. The occasional viral video, music video, or television advertisement may get some attention, especially in the latter two cases, but this is hardly a regular occurrence. But nothing increases availability like awards, and this year, those short films nominated for Academy Awards finally came to a movie theatre near me. So I watched all of them. And now I've reviewed all of them for your pleasure. So here's the good, the bad, and the ugly of the Oscars, now in 40 minutes or less.
Live Action
The Vincent Lambe-directed Detainment, a biopic about two ten-year-old boys, Jon Venables (Ey Solan) and Robert Thompson (Leon Hughes), who murdered a toddler in 1993, is the most controversial of the lot, owing to the fact that the filmmakers didn't get permission from the victim's family to make the film. The film dramatizes police interrogations of the two boys, interspersed with attempted recreations of the actual story of how the younger child was kidnapped and killed. At a mere 30 minutes long, the short is still incredibly redundant, and nearly every scene is identical to every other scene. Every interview with Jon involves him breaking into tears and blaming Robert for something, whereas every interview with Robert involves him denying every accusation and blaming Jon for something. The flashbacks are somewhat less repetitive, but far too many of them simply involve the kids walking around London, leading the baby by the hand.
As a consequence, it's difficult to understand what impulse led to the creation of this film aside from pure tabloid sensationalism. It's largely unsuccessful in exposing the motivations or psychology of the killers, and despite the obvious stress the two are under, it also fails to comment on their treatment by the authorities or their home lives. The on-screen text at the end merely explains that they were the youngest convicted murderers in British history, and that they were sentenced as adults. The whole thing thus comes across as more than a little pointless, and more than a little exploitative, especially considering that it regards juvenile offenders. The actual James Bulger case, even as presented, brings up issues of how young murderers should be treated, which is a serious and difficult issue. It deserves more than the dull, bland treatment it gets here. (4/10)
Less dull but similarly pointless is Fauve, directed by Jérémy Comte, which positions itself as sort of a pseudo-Lord of the Flies tale of boys fighting for dominance. Essentially, the film shows two boys playing random games to see who can win the most, which escalate to the point of tragedy. The trouble is - and this may well be my own biases speaking - most of these games seem inherently reckless to an extent that it's difficult to sympathize with these kids, and the film is so self-serious that it doesn't seem to recognize the sheer inanity of what's actually happening in it. Certainly, child death and trauma are both inherently sad concepts, but while Comte's approach is patient and beautiful, it's in service of nothing other than transparent emotional manipulation, with only the most trite of themes to justify that. Yes, yes, loss of innocence, power games, et cetera. It's been done. (5/10)
Although most of the live-action shorts regarded dark subject matter, Marianne Farley's lightweight Marguerite serves as a wonderful exception. Chronicling the relationship of an elderly woman (the titular Marguerite, played by Béatrice Picard) with her lesbian caretaker (Rachel, played by Sandrine Bisson), this film subtly regards the titular character's own feelings of longing and regret, eventually revealing themes about the progression of LGBT+ rights and how they were suppressed in the past. Much of the film's strength comes from Picard and Bisson, who both give subtle, thoughtful performances which communicate volumes even without dialogue, but it also comes from the quiet intimacy of the direction, which never grandstands and allows the themes to emanate from the characters rather than the other way around. It's a film which asks us to remember the struggles of our elders, but it's also warm and compassionate enough not to feel like a nagging lecture. It's easily the most upbeat of the nominees, and in part because of that it's one of the best. (8/10)
The running theme of the live action shorts is, of all things, child endangerment, with Marguerite being the only exception. However, while Fauve, Detainment, and Skin (more on that below) all tell their stories at least partially from the child's perspective, Rodrigo Sorogoyen's Mother instead crafts a taut parental nightmare with only a single setting and a series of phone calls, and consequentially is the other standout of the category. While visiting her mother's house, Marta (Marta Nieto) becomes increasingly alarmed when her son Ivan (Álvaro Balas) calls, claiming that his father has left him alone on the beach. What follows is a scene of escalating hysteria in which every phone call raises the tension and makes Ivan's situation seem more precarious. Exquisite performances from Nieto and Blanca Apilánes, who plays Marta's mother, contribute greatly to that tension, as does a very intelligent use of the confined apartment to create a claustrophobic effect. Of all the shorts, this is the one I would most like to see expanded into a feature film. (8/10)
I would not say the same of Guy Nattiv's provocative short Skin, in which the son of a neo-Nazi witnesses his father commit a hate crime. That premise doesn't quite express how self-satisfied yet meaningless this short actually is - at first, it almost seems to be saying something about the possibility of children moving on from hatred, including an insufferably twee speech about snakes which serves as an obvious race metaphor. It's already a little too on-the-nose, with its blunt metaphors and extreme representations of racism, but then it pivots to an incredibly smug and borderline incoherent bit of karmic retribution in which - spoiler alert - the Nazi dude gets tattooed all over his body so his skin looks dark, and then is murdered by his own family when he tries to go home.
Even if "what if racist was black man?" wasn't already a cliche, and even if it weren't empty, self-congratulatory shock value, it's also undercut by a shot of a black child watching this act of vengeance - suggesting that violence on both sides is leaving a negative impact on children. But you can't have it both ways: either have your false idea of both sides being bad, or take your cheap shots at cartoonish bigots. Are we supposed to view the black men who tattoo the Nazi as equally bad, or as heroic? Both readings are supported by the film, but they contradict each other; as problematic and inane as Skin is, it doesn't even have enough conviction to stick to one shallow theme. Extra points for the abortive suggestion that there's more violence from white people than black people, but otherwise the fact that this is even nominated is a pretty strong condemnation of the way that far too many white audiences think about race. (4/10)
Animation
I have nothing new to say about Pixar's Bao, which I discussed in my review of Incredibles 2. I liked it even more this second time, and the moments I found disturbing the first time were much more funny on this second watch, although I still didn't understand their purpose. It also stands out as easily the most visually polished and detailed of the animated shorts, however; animation is hard, and some of these are more creatively interesting, but to my tastes this is the only one where the visual style didn't distract me in some way. (8/10)
Late Afternoon, from the animation studio Cartoon Saloon, probably deserves second place, but its aggressively minimalist and stretchy art style was incredibly distracting to me. One character has no neck for reasons which I can only assume are metaphorical, characters' mouths frequently vanish for no particular reason, and proportions shift constantly. This short regards an old woman looking at objects which remind her of her past, and most of the story takes place in flashback, which may well explain the warped proportions. At its most consistent and detailed, the animation is genuinely pretty, and there's a fair amount of eye-catching abstraction to be found, and the story itself is generally charming and has a nice, sweet twist. For me, I could barely pay attention to what was going on because I was constantly thinking about how characters' arms changed length and shape, and how the mere existence of facial features was inconsistent. But maybe I'm just unusually picky. (6/10)
I don't feel the same about Animal Behaviour, directed by David Fine and Alison Snowden, which has a much less elegant animation style and instead thrives mostly on humour. In this film, animals go to therapy to deal with stereotypical animal traits. That's it. That's the joke. In this 14-minute short, by far the longest of the animation program, all it does is present stereotypical animal traits as psychiatric disorders, because that's funny. There's a scene where a leech as a panic attack, and it's treated as a joke because she puts a tiny bag on her head. And while the animation is smooth and relatively detailed, the character designs are charmless, and the crummy script prevents anything particularly interesting from being made of the animated form. At the very least it has a sincere, even somewhat emotional ending, though even that is undercut by a crude gag. No thanks. (4/10)
Of the set, it's Trevor Jiminez's Weekends which is the most distinctive, combining a unique sketch aesthetic with creepy nightmare imagery and a moving story about a child living with two recently-divorced parents. Since it's told from the perspective of a young boy, it may seem more family-oriented than the crude and comparatively adult-themed Animal Behaviour, but it's actually the darkest of all of the shorts: not only does it have some genuinely disturbing imagery in the aforementioned nightmare scenes, but it also features suggestions of domestic violence. It's stylized and thoughtful, albeit a little too slowly paced, and features just the right blend of symbolism and literal reality. Alas, it's also incredibly jerky, with obvious missing frames that make it look more like flipping through a picture book than watching a movie. I'm not sure if this stylistic choice was deliberate or the result of lacking resources, but either way it's distracting and compromises the film's flow. Even in spite of that, though, Weekend is arguably the most fresh and visionary of the nominees. (7/10)
On the opposite end is One Small Step, from Taiko Studios, which is a gorgeously animated but incredibly formulaic story of a young girl (named Luna) growing up and struggling to become an astronaut. Alongside these struggles, she increasingly stops talking to her cobbler father, until a tragic event changes her outlook. There's a million animated short films exactly like this, but One Small Step stands out for a few reasons. One is its pseudo-3D visual style, which is vibrant and lively, and is only held back by the characters' eyes, which are a bit lifeless. The other is the small details of the story, like the father's job, or the pacing of specific scenes, or the timing of emotional beats, or the simple fact that the characters are Asian. Especially surrounded by so many stories about children growing up, it seems fairly uninspired, but in execution this particular version of the story is irresistible. (7/10)
Documentary
Although it's not my favourite entry in the documentary category, Ed Perkins' Black Sheep is probably the most deserving victor, which is saying something given the competition. A straightforward narrative account of the experiences of one Cornelius Walker with racism in small-town England, it's only brought down by needless and distancing reenactments, which come across as largely redundant despite visualizing Walker's narrative. In truth, only the interview footage was necessary, as his facial expressions speak a lot more about the emotions of his experiences than any actors could, and the themes about the impact of violence on black boys didn't need a visual complement to resonate. And indeed, this story says a lot about how children internalize racism and how other forces may prevent them from dealing with it in a healthy manner, as well as how internalized anger can lead to problems within black families. It's insightful and powerful - but the way that story is told in this film doesn't add a whole lot. (7/10)
Equally powerful but much less pointed is End Game, directed by Rob Epstein and Jeffrey Friedman, which chronicles various hospital patients' experiences with knowing they will die. Central to the film is the issue of hospice care, which is argued passionately for but never quite resolved, and instead it gains most of its power from the families' emotions about hospice. It's a bit haphazardly organized, and one patient in particular gets a disproportionate amount of attention, seemingly only because her situation is the most dramatic, but it's not entirely wrong to narrow its focus, as that story is the most compelling and powerful. The filmmakers received a lot of access, allowing for the viewer to share in the central family's own grief and frustration, and the general construction feels consistently empathetic even when it overwhelms the film's apparent point. It ends by checking in on all of the other patients, but this only serves as a reminder that they were mostly neglected, and the film's main point about hospice care is unconvincing, but what does come across is still immensely powerful. (7/10)
The most visually distinguished of the lot, Skye Fitzgerald's Lifeboat, mines some pretty well-worn territory by taking on the Mediterranean refugee crisis, but it finds a fresh perspective in focusing on a German rescue group called Sea Watch which rescues people who became stranded midway through. It's gorgeously shot and fascinating, and the large chunk of it which shows their process is especially compelling when simply documenting the organization's procedure, in large part because the editing grants the process an extra layer of intensity. The talking head chunks are the weakest parts, as the leader of Sea Watch mostly just rambles philosophically, but actually seeing the refugees in media res helps make their situation feel less distant. Mostly, this one stands out as the most technically accomplished of the lot, consistently framing its subject for maximum emotional impact. This is probably my favourite competitor, even if it's not necessarily the most fresh subject. (8/10)
In this category, the most upbeat contender is Rakya Zehtabchi's Period. End of Stenence., about a group of women from a rural Northern Indian village manufacturing sanitary pads with a machine supplied by a napkin manufacturer. It's essentially an infomercial for these women, given that it ends by asking viewers to donate at their website, but it's also an interesting look at the Indian taboo on menstruation, and how that fits into India's patriarchal culture. As fascinating as that is, this documentary's most appealing quality is simply the personalities of the interview subjects, whose enthusiasm is infectious, and several of whom offer witty and intelligent comments on the problems they seek to combat. It's a lovely ray of joy in an otherwise fairly serious slate of nominees, and it's pleasantly optimistic for a film ultimately about patriarchy. (8/10)
Finally, the most buzzed-about documentary short is Marshall Curry's A Night at the Garden, which is just a collection of archival footage capturing a 1939 Nazi rally in New York City's Madison Square Garden arena. There's serious music played over most of it, a burst of violence is slowed down and zoomed in on, and there's text on screen at the end explaining that World War II and the Holocaust happened right afterward, but otherwise it's just archival footage. I'm not entirely sure what Curry's being awarded for: all of his editing choices are distracting and he only provides the bare minimum of context at the very end, so the fact that this was nominated at all makes getting an Oscar seem incredibly easy. It's certainly audacious (and vaguely Marcel Duchamp-esque) to put this footage in cinemas, forcing viewers to engage with the history depicted, but the lack of context is downright irresponsible - change the music and there's no evidence that the filmmakers are condemning this event at all. This footage belongs in a museum, not nominated for awards with minimal editing. (5/10)
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Live Action
The Vincent Lambe-directed Detainment, a biopic about two ten-year-old boys, Jon Venables (Ey Solan) and Robert Thompson (Leon Hughes), who murdered a toddler in 1993, is the most controversial of the lot, owing to the fact that the filmmakers didn't get permission from the victim's family to make the film. The film dramatizes police interrogations of the two boys, interspersed with attempted recreations of the actual story of how the younger child was kidnapped and killed. At a mere 30 minutes long, the short is still incredibly redundant, and nearly every scene is identical to every other scene. Every interview with Jon involves him breaking into tears and blaming Robert for something, whereas every interview with Robert involves him denying every accusation and blaming Jon for something. The flashbacks are somewhat less repetitive, but far too many of them simply involve the kids walking around London, leading the baby by the hand.
As a consequence, it's difficult to understand what impulse led to the creation of this film aside from pure tabloid sensationalism. It's largely unsuccessful in exposing the motivations or psychology of the killers, and despite the obvious stress the two are under, it also fails to comment on their treatment by the authorities or their home lives. The on-screen text at the end merely explains that they were the youngest convicted murderers in British history, and that they were sentenced as adults. The whole thing thus comes across as more than a little pointless, and more than a little exploitative, especially considering that it regards juvenile offenders. The actual James Bulger case, even as presented, brings up issues of how young murderers should be treated, which is a serious and difficult issue. It deserves more than the dull, bland treatment it gets here. (4/10)
Less dull but similarly pointless is Fauve, directed by Jérémy Comte, which positions itself as sort of a pseudo-Lord of the Flies tale of boys fighting for dominance. Essentially, the film shows two boys playing random games to see who can win the most, which escalate to the point of tragedy. The trouble is - and this may well be my own biases speaking - most of these games seem inherently reckless to an extent that it's difficult to sympathize with these kids, and the film is so self-serious that it doesn't seem to recognize the sheer inanity of what's actually happening in it. Certainly, child death and trauma are both inherently sad concepts, but while Comte's approach is patient and beautiful, it's in service of nothing other than transparent emotional manipulation, with only the most trite of themes to justify that. Yes, yes, loss of innocence, power games, et cetera. It's been done. (5/10)
Although most of the live-action shorts regarded dark subject matter, Marianne Farley's lightweight Marguerite serves as a wonderful exception. Chronicling the relationship of an elderly woman (the titular Marguerite, played by Béatrice Picard) with her lesbian caretaker (Rachel, played by Sandrine Bisson), this film subtly regards the titular character's own feelings of longing and regret, eventually revealing themes about the progression of LGBT+ rights and how they were suppressed in the past. Much of the film's strength comes from Picard and Bisson, who both give subtle, thoughtful performances which communicate volumes even without dialogue, but it also comes from the quiet intimacy of the direction, which never grandstands and allows the themes to emanate from the characters rather than the other way around. It's a film which asks us to remember the struggles of our elders, but it's also warm and compassionate enough not to feel like a nagging lecture. It's easily the most upbeat of the nominees, and in part because of that it's one of the best. (8/10)
The running theme of the live action shorts is, of all things, child endangerment, with Marguerite being the only exception. However, while Fauve, Detainment, and Skin (more on that below) all tell their stories at least partially from the child's perspective, Rodrigo Sorogoyen's Mother instead crafts a taut parental nightmare with only a single setting and a series of phone calls, and consequentially is the other standout of the category. While visiting her mother's house, Marta (Marta Nieto) becomes increasingly alarmed when her son Ivan (Álvaro Balas) calls, claiming that his father has left him alone on the beach. What follows is a scene of escalating hysteria in which every phone call raises the tension and makes Ivan's situation seem more precarious. Exquisite performances from Nieto and Blanca Apilánes, who plays Marta's mother, contribute greatly to that tension, as does a very intelligent use of the confined apartment to create a claustrophobic effect. Of all the shorts, this is the one I would most like to see expanded into a feature film. (8/10)
I would not say the same of Guy Nattiv's provocative short Skin, in which the son of a neo-Nazi witnesses his father commit a hate crime. That premise doesn't quite express how self-satisfied yet meaningless this short actually is - at first, it almost seems to be saying something about the possibility of children moving on from hatred, including an insufferably twee speech about snakes which serves as an obvious race metaphor. It's already a little too on-the-nose, with its blunt metaphors and extreme representations of racism, but then it pivots to an incredibly smug and borderline incoherent bit of karmic retribution in which - spoiler alert - the Nazi dude gets tattooed all over his body so his skin looks dark, and then is murdered by his own family when he tries to go home.
Even if "what if racist was black man?" wasn't already a cliche, and even if it weren't empty, self-congratulatory shock value, it's also undercut by a shot of a black child watching this act of vengeance - suggesting that violence on both sides is leaving a negative impact on children. But you can't have it both ways: either have your false idea of both sides being bad, or take your cheap shots at cartoonish bigots. Are we supposed to view the black men who tattoo the Nazi as equally bad, or as heroic? Both readings are supported by the film, but they contradict each other; as problematic and inane as Skin is, it doesn't even have enough conviction to stick to one shallow theme. Extra points for the abortive suggestion that there's more violence from white people than black people, but otherwise the fact that this is even nominated is a pretty strong condemnation of the way that far too many white audiences think about race. (4/10)
Animation
I have nothing new to say about Pixar's Bao, which I discussed in my review of Incredibles 2. I liked it even more this second time, and the moments I found disturbing the first time were much more funny on this second watch, although I still didn't understand their purpose. It also stands out as easily the most visually polished and detailed of the animated shorts, however; animation is hard, and some of these are more creatively interesting, but to my tastes this is the only one where the visual style didn't distract me in some way. (8/10)
Late Afternoon, from the animation studio Cartoon Saloon, probably deserves second place, but its aggressively minimalist and stretchy art style was incredibly distracting to me. One character has no neck for reasons which I can only assume are metaphorical, characters' mouths frequently vanish for no particular reason, and proportions shift constantly. This short regards an old woman looking at objects which remind her of her past, and most of the story takes place in flashback, which may well explain the warped proportions. At its most consistent and detailed, the animation is genuinely pretty, and there's a fair amount of eye-catching abstraction to be found, and the story itself is generally charming and has a nice, sweet twist. For me, I could barely pay attention to what was going on because I was constantly thinking about how characters' arms changed length and shape, and how the mere existence of facial features was inconsistent. But maybe I'm just unusually picky. (6/10)
I don't feel the same about Animal Behaviour, directed by David Fine and Alison Snowden, which has a much less elegant animation style and instead thrives mostly on humour. In this film, animals go to therapy to deal with stereotypical animal traits. That's it. That's the joke. In this 14-minute short, by far the longest of the animation program, all it does is present stereotypical animal traits as psychiatric disorders, because that's funny. There's a scene where a leech as a panic attack, and it's treated as a joke because she puts a tiny bag on her head. And while the animation is smooth and relatively detailed, the character designs are charmless, and the crummy script prevents anything particularly interesting from being made of the animated form. At the very least it has a sincere, even somewhat emotional ending, though even that is undercut by a crude gag. No thanks. (4/10)
Of the set, it's Trevor Jiminez's Weekends which is the most distinctive, combining a unique sketch aesthetic with creepy nightmare imagery and a moving story about a child living with two recently-divorced parents. Since it's told from the perspective of a young boy, it may seem more family-oriented than the crude and comparatively adult-themed Animal Behaviour, but it's actually the darkest of all of the shorts: not only does it have some genuinely disturbing imagery in the aforementioned nightmare scenes, but it also features suggestions of domestic violence. It's stylized and thoughtful, albeit a little too slowly paced, and features just the right blend of symbolism and literal reality. Alas, it's also incredibly jerky, with obvious missing frames that make it look more like flipping through a picture book than watching a movie. I'm not sure if this stylistic choice was deliberate or the result of lacking resources, but either way it's distracting and compromises the film's flow. Even in spite of that, though, Weekend is arguably the most fresh and visionary of the nominees. (7/10)
On the opposite end is One Small Step, from Taiko Studios, which is a gorgeously animated but incredibly formulaic story of a young girl (named Luna) growing up and struggling to become an astronaut. Alongside these struggles, she increasingly stops talking to her cobbler father, until a tragic event changes her outlook. There's a million animated short films exactly like this, but One Small Step stands out for a few reasons. One is its pseudo-3D visual style, which is vibrant and lively, and is only held back by the characters' eyes, which are a bit lifeless. The other is the small details of the story, like the father's job, or the pacing of specific scenes, or the timing of emotional beats, or the simple fact that the characters are Asian. Especially surrounded by so many stories about children growing up, it seems fairly uninspired, but in execution this particular version of the story is irresistible. (7/10)
Documentary
Although it's not my favourite entry in the documentary category, Ed Perkins' Black Sheep is probably the most deserving victor, which is saying something given the competition. A straightforward narrative account of the experiences of one Cornelius Walker with racism in small-town England, it's only brought down by needless and distancing reenactments, which come across as largely redundant despite visualizing Walker's narrative. In truth, only the interview footage was necessary, as his facial expressions speak a lot more about the emotions of his experiences than any actors could, and the themes about the impact of violence on black boys didn't need a visual complement to resonate. And indeed, this story says a lot about how children internalize racism and how other forces may prevent them from dealing with it in a healthy manner, as well as how internalized anger can lead to problems within black families. It's insightful and powerful - but the way that story is told in this film doesn't add a whole lot. (7/10)
Equally powerful but much less pointed is End Game, directed by Rob Epstein and Jeffrey Friedman, which chronicles various hospital patients' experiences with knowing they will die. Central to the film is the issue of hospice care, which is argued passionately for but never quite resolved, and instead it gains most of its power from the families' emotions about hospice. It's a bit haphazardly organized, and one patient in particular gets a disproportionate amount of attention, seemingly only because her situation is the most dramatic, but it's not entirely wrong to narrow its focus, as that story is the most compelling and powerful. The filmmakers received a lot of access, allowing for the viewer to share in the central family's own grief and frustration, and the general construction feels consistently empathetic even when it overwhelms the film's apparent point. It ends by checking in on all of the other patients, but this only serves as a reminder that they were mostly neglected, and the film's main point about hospice care is unconvincing, but what does come across is still immensely powerful. (7/10)
The most visually distinguished of the lot, Skye Fitzgerald's Lifeboat, mines some pretty well-worn territory by taking on the Mediterranean refugee crisis, but it finds a fresh perspective in focusing on a German rescue group called Sea Watch which rescues people who became stranded midway through. It's gorgeously shot and fascinating, and the large chunk of it which shows their process is especially compelling when simply documenting the organization's procedure, in large part because the editing grants the process an extra layer of intensity. The talking head chunks are the weakest parts, as the leader of Sea Watch mostly just rambles philosophically, but actually seeing the refugees in media res helps make their situation feel less distant. Mostly, this one stands out as the most technically accomplished of the lot, consistently framing its subject for maximum emotional impact. This is probably my favourite competitor, even if it's not necessarily the most fresh subject. (8/10)
In this category, the most upbeat contender is Rakya Zehtabchi's Period. End of Stenence., about a group of women from a rural Northern Indian village manufacturing sanitary pads with a machine supplied by a napkin manufacturer. It's essentially an infomercial for these women, given that it ends by asking viewers to donate at their website, but it's also an interesting look at the Indian taboo on menstruation, and how that fits into India's patriarchal culture. As fascinating as that is, this documentary's most appealing quality is simply the personalities of the interview subjects, whose enthusiasm is infectious, and several of whom offer witty and intelligent comments on the problems they seek to combat. It's a lovely ray of joy in an otherwise fairly serious slate of nominees, and it's pleasantly optimistic for a film ultimately about patriarchy. (8/10)
Finally, the most buzzed-about documentary short is Marshall Curry's A Night at the Garden, which is just a collection of archival footage capturing a 1939 Nazi rally in New York City's Madison Square Garden arena. There's serious music played over most of it, a burst of violence is slowed down and zoomed in on, and there's text on screen at the end explaining that World War II and the Holocaust happened right afterward, but otherwise it's just archival footage. I'm not entirely sure what Curry's being awarded for: all of his editing choices are distracting and he only provides the bare minimum of context at the very end, so the fact that this was nominated at all makes getting an Oscar seem incredibly easy. It's certainly audacious (and vaguely Marcel Duchamp-esque) to put this footage in cinemas, forcing viewers to engage with the history depicted, but the lack of context is downright irresponsible - change the music and there's no evidence that the filmmakers are condemning this event at all. This footage belongs in a museum, not nominated for awards with minimal editing. (5/10)
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