Seraglio

No wonder it was nominated for an Oscar! This pieces reaches back to the roots of cinema, relying less on words than imagery to evoke the world of this piece. At the same time, the few words it chooses are of paramount importance to the short. It is this kind of intelligent economic use of language and image that distinguishes this short from amongst a very crowded field of competitors.

A clever and enchanting story unfolds when an unlikely housewife becomes the object of affection from a mysterious admirer. Well acted and written, it will leave you smiling. I saw this short on an HD cable channel. With a run time of less than 10 minutes the short remains captivating and just complex enough to hold your interest. At first you may think the story is a fantasy in the housewife's mind. After the first conquest it becomes clear that things are not as you thought. Subtle nuances in the performances keep the admirer's identity ambiguous. The understated but clear roles of the wife's family are perfect, from the apathetic son to the fitness obsessed husband. One can begin to put the pieces together in revealing the identity of the secret admirer after only a moment at the dinner table.

I really wanted to like this movie. Unfortunately, the egregiously poor direction and hackneyed script made that impossible.

The actors (especially the one who played the mailman) all gave valiant attempts to rise above the poor writing and direction, but one sensed an acute desperation on their parts. It's almost as if they knew what they were up against, and derived their only joy from knowing the film would be very short.

I think the worst thing about the movie was the blandness. No surprises, reversals, or wit. When Oscar night rolled around, there was something karmically right about Ben Stiller happily calling out the name of another, better film.

What a riot! An utterly original and competently produced little comedy that's deceptively simple on the surface while also tapping into the deep roots of the comic tradition. Given the light touch, one might be tempted to dismiss it at first as fluff, but it's just wacky enough to draw you in, and you begin to realize that there's something peculiar going on below the surface. Somehow reminiscent of David Lynch, but without the extremes of exotic weirdness and with a spirit finally more Joycean in its embrace of the human comedy. Not to exaggerate: it's a short, modest work. But full of promise and again, genuinely funny: I was cracking up like walnuts, walnuts.