Short circuit: Eating, drinking and inhaling short films

Tintin Wulia, Contributor, Denpasar, Bali

I sat on one of the balcony seats among the audience, looking down to the stage. The festival's artistic director, Juergen Kittel, was telling the audience about my film Ketok and how its publicity material -- the door-handle signs that I, Kiki Moechtar and Diar Rachmaningtyas had made the night before I flew to Hamburg -- had "conquered all the door handles at all the men's toilets", sparking laughter in the room.

It was one fine day in Germany's high summer of June 2003, and the people could have preferred to stay outside to enjoy the wonderful weather. Nevertheless, the cinema theater was crammed with short film enthusiasts, attending the opening of the 19th Hamburg International Short Film Festival.

To my happy surprise, Ketok, a short that I originally made only for Indonesian audiences, was screened on that opening night. And to my even happier surprise, the audience -- as well as the jury members -- seemed to like the film, which later gained the first Special Mention in the NoBudget Competition.

The NoBudget Competition is the spirit of the Hamburg International Short Film Festival. As festival director Astrid Kuehl told the audience on that opening night, NoBudget was "the starting point of the festival, and we will keep this competition as the heart of the festival".

For this festival, "NoBudget" means "made with little money, but a lot of imagination".

And that was exactly the atmosphere of the festival. With about 100 volunteers in the team, the core organizer of the festival consists of only about seven people. We could almost smell the enthusiasm for short films in the air in the jam-packed seats and aisles of the cinema.

There's much more to the Hamburg International Short Film Festival: Its Mo and Friese Children's Film Festival introduces the younger generation to short films, with children appointed as the juries. As part of the children's activities, the festival holds filmmaking workshops for kids.

I arrived too late to participate, but thanks to the workshop coordinator, Krissi Krumes, there was an opportunity for me to work on a short animation project with the children in a school in Allermoehe.

Although much smaller, the MAFIA (Music and Film Independent Artists) Documentary Awards in Sydney, Australia, is not that much different in ambiance. The year 2002 marked the first MAFIA Documentary Awards; I still remember how I walked with Ariel Valent to the Valhalla Theater that night. It was a one-night screening of the 10 finalists' films.

We wouldn't have imagined that on the way home we would talk about having made the best documentary of the night.

As we arrived at the cinema, the welcoming team gave us each a rose, and took our photograph. Scott Alexander, another fellow no-budget filmmaker whom I was also working with, was there already, sipping a glass of wine. The cinema was packed with people. We met the other finalists and sat in a row.

The energy was very positive, and the crowd supportive. Slambangricketychuck got the most laughs. Trevor Graham, then the head of documentary of the Australian Film Television and Radio School and one of the five jury members, told me that he liked Slambangricketychuck because, "it's quite an unusual slant of Australian doorways. And although it's an experimental film, and an experimental documentary, it's very entertaining".

The festival director, Sohail Dahdal, told me that they were looking for innovation and daring experiments. A documentary doesn't have to be dull, and it can be about anything -- that's what I read between the lines. It could even be about the jammed miniDV camera that the committee had used to screen the films (Scott jumped in and lent his camera to screen the rest of the films).

Also, if you want to do well, the 10 minutes that you're given have to be utilized very effectively. That is quite a challenge for documentary, as Sohail told me: "I find it harder to make a 10-minute doco (documentary) than to make a 50-minute doco. So the 10 minutes allows the uncovering of real talent."

For Amadeo Marquez-Perez, however, 10 minutes is still too long.

"We hope to receive more films less than eight minutes this year," Marquez-Perez wrote to me earlier this year. The festival director of the 15/15 Film Festival found out that with 15 minutes, the films tend to drag.

His festival, challenging filmmakers to make films less than 15 minutes (let's say eight minutes for now) in less than 15 hours, went international this year, with participants from Southeast Asia and Europe as well as from its base, Australia.

I also found a similar idea happening in the Hamburg festival. A group of young filmmakers challenged themselves to make films as quickly as possible in the duration of the festival. Calling themselves Kino, they screen their fast-films at one of the venues of the festival.

During the day, we can catch them editing and preparing for their next shots in a building originally used as a drug rehabilitation center. It was quite an effort for me to find the building, which was just around the block.

There I found this guy, absorbed in his deadline, in a world as coolly illusionary as The Matrix. Jericho Jeudy was his name, his eyes fixated on the 15" screen of his Titanium Powerbook as he told me the story of his panda bear film he made earlier that week.

In Indonesia, the passion for quick filmmaking is also growing. Hosted and co-organized by Minikino earlier this year, the Indonesian 15/15 Film Festival had participants fly in to Denpasar from Surabaya, Malang, and even Jakarta, especially for the high-adrenaline 15-hour filmmaking treat.

By the participants' request, Minikino is looking at more cities in 2004. The 15/15 Film Festival gives filmmakers the motivation to finish a film. This could also be a workshop for new talent, working together to finish a film for the first time. Quick filmmaking can be a launch to something a cut above.

"A lot of the winning docos at MAFIA have gone on to better and bigger things and that makes me happy," Sohail told me via e- mail recently.

"That is what MAFIA is for, to give talented filmmakers and musicians a kick start, and a venue to showcase their talents."

That was exactly what happened: at the awards ceremony that night, Joy Toma, then the executive producer of Eatcarpet, the SBS Saturday night show featuring the best short films, videos and animation, whispered to me before announcing it to the audience that SBS would acquire Slambangricketychuck for broadcast.

I remembered my conversation with Sophia Zachariou, then the producer of Eatcarpet, a few years before that night, when they bought my previous shorts from the film market at Oberhausen.

"It's quite difficult to find Indonesian shorts for Eatcarpet. They're just ... not subtle enough," she said.

How subtle is subtle, then? Festivals, as venues for showcasing emerging talent, could also serve as a place for filmmakers to expand their film vocabulary.

After telling me about the Oberhausen festival, Zachariou introduced me to Bart Sammut, then the producer's assistant. I believe it's not just a coincidence that Sammut is now working on a project for the 50th International Short Film Festival Oberhausen.

In his latest e-mail just a few weeks ago, Sammut told me eagerly that "it is very inspiring to work for a festival such as Oberhausen, as it is a big supporter of experimental works. So I am learning lots to bring back to Australia next year".

Sammut's own festival, the Short Crap Film Festival, has reached its 3rd year now. And the message is clear: "What could be one man's garbage is another man's treasure; what might not meet the standards of some meets the standards of others; what might not work in some ways works in others; Australian humor, not funny to some, hilarious to others!"

Short Crap seeks films which are laughable, and again, under 10 minutes. And Sammut always explains, "Short Crap is not a festival about mocking short works, but rather to provide a further life for them and to recognize potential talent working underground within the Australian community".

Talking about recognizing potential talents working underground reminds me of the Singapore International Film Festival. One day in Singapore early this year, I had the honor of meeting Philip Cheah, the venerable festival director, and over glasses of orange juice we talked about persistence, one thing Cheah really believes in.

Thus, although not focusing on short films, the festival pays special homage to short films made with the cheaper digital video alternative through its Silver Screen Awards for Asian Digital Shorts.

And talking about digital, this festival's Internet presence was more than connecting. Because of logistic and health reasons, I failed to come for the screening of Ketok at the 16th Singapore International Film Festival. But one day an e-mail popped up in my mailbox -- it was from Amir Muhammad, which turned out to be a fellow Asian Digital Shorts nominee.

Amir informed me about the online message board where audience can comment on any films they saw, loved, or despised. I hastily went online and when I got there I could again smell the familiar zest of a film festival.

Amir and I keep in contact and exchange information through e- mail. He told me he saw all my other films screened in the Festival Fringe of the 16th Singapore International Film Festival, and kindly sent me his remarkable six shorts. He admitted to be the chap who put Ketok in the database of imdb.com.

As you are reading this article, two of Amir's shorts are to be screened by Minikino (http://minikino.org) as part of the 5th Jakarta International Film Festival. So, come to Oktagon Gallery this afternoon to eat, drink and inhale short films -- and before you notice it, in no time we'll be speaking in shorts.

The author is a short filmmaker which, she assures, refers to her film genre, not her physical stature.