UNDERDOG

I think Annecy may be one of my favourite festivals. How can you beat a place where you can bask in your love of animation during the day and go for a swim in the lake in the evening?

Despite it being the biggest animation festival in the world, there’s something about the event that makes you feel welcome. It’s easy to ignore the business side of things if you just want to binge-watch films. In the long queues, you can observe students drawing in their sketchbooks, friends playing cards, volunteers spraying water on the spectators. It’s 40 degrees outside, but we’re in it together. 

My brief visit this year didn’t allow me to see as much as I wanted to, but I found a lot to enjoy in the short film programmes I did catch. Here’s a top 10 picked from different sections of the festival.

First stop was the WTF programme, and what better way to kick off the festival than with this selection that never takes itself too seriously.

Babyface, by Sacha Beeley

I wish I had 10% of Sacha Beeley’s imagination. Her film features a spoon, dancing mosquitoes and a cupid chicken. I’d love to tell you what it’s about but I’m not entirely sure whether I’ve seen it or dreamed it. All I know is that I laughed a lot.

i have a, by Rory Waudby-Tolley

Another talented British animator (there are plenty in this top 10), Rory Waudby-Tolley uses a cartoonish style and a catchy song to reflect on our relationship to the things we possess. What starts as a joke ends up being quietly devastating. I’ve been a fan of his work for a long time – behind their apparent simplicity, his film perfectly capture the tragicomedy of life.

Smokedog, by Andrew Onorato

Deep inside, Underdog wishes he could be as cool as Smokedog. 

Smokedog smokes, steals, plays loud music on the bus and struts through life without a care in the world (or at least that’s what he wants you to believe). 

Australian animator Andrew Onorato has worked on a bunch of cool music videos (for Childish Gambino, Billie Eilish, Doja Cat…) but his cute blue dog steals the show.

The graduation films programmes can be a bit unforgiving: because most student shorts are very short, you often end up watching 14 films back to back, and they start blurring together. There was one that really stood out for me however, and I was delighted to see it win the Cristal for Best Graduation Film.

Ball Face, by Laurence Thérien

Laurence Thérien’s RCA film is based on a simple and relatable idea: sucking at sports.

What makes the film so satisfying is how perfectly the medium serves the idea. The clay animation allows bodies and time itself to stretch, and that exaggeration somehow makes the experience feel even more truthful (yes I sucked at sports).

The official short film competition was really strong this year, bringing together several revered artists at the top of their game.

Cartoon Physics, by Ru Kuwahata and Max Porter

The duo Ru Kuwahata and Max Porter graced us with a beautiful film a few years ago, Negative Space, in which a man remembered his father through the ritual of packing his suitcase. Their new stop motion puppet animation is delightful, moving, beautifully crafted, and pays homage to childhood cartoons while reflecting on what it means to be a parent. It’s available on Arte (for certain European countries).

Daughters of the Late Colonel, by Elizabeth Hobbs

It’s a mystery to me how Elizabeth Hobbs’s style can be so elusive yet so expressive. 

It’s fascinating to see her world come to life: it’s rich but it leaves room to the spectator to fill the gaps. Adapted from a short story by Katherine Mansfield (Hobbs’s previous film, The Debutante, was also adapted from a short story from the early 20th century), this new gem is playful, witty and free-flowing, unfolding almost as if it’s being invented before our eyes.

Hag, by Anna Ginsburg

I admire Anna Ginsburg’s ability to tackle the most intimate subjects with such openness and generosity. She goes all in, leaving the spectator drained and ecstatic.

Hag is the kind of film you can watch time and time again and still discover new details or references. It’s bold, loud and a lot of fun, with scenes and dialogues that feel completely natural, in contrast to the electric colours and over-the-top characters inspired by mythology. I’m looking forward to watching it again.

La Petite Reine blanche (The Little White Queen), by Théo Hanosset and Mathieu Georis

Did I come away understanding the rules of pelota, the sport at the heart of this film? Absolutely not.

But I loved the way Théo Hanosset and Mathieu blended documentary with pure fantasy, creating a utopia in which a carpark can be turned into a pelota court and an entire town can stop what they’re doing to take part in the event. Animated with chalk on paper and oil paint on glass, the film feels warm and nostalgic. For 15 minutes, time stands still and chaos turns into harmony.

Please, by Anna Mantzaris

Anna Mantzaris’s Enough is probably the film I’ve shown the most in the past years. With Please, the queen of puppet animation (a title she shares with Niki Lindroth von Bahr in my personal hall of fame) is back with her exquisite characters made of felt, her humour sprinkled with despair, and her sharp observations about modern loneliness and our craving for connection.
An instant classic.

Paper Trail, by Don Hertzfeldt

Annecy is where I first came across Don Hertzfeldt’s work. In 2013, if you wanted to swap screenings, you would go to a little hut and see what tickets were available. I picked one for It’s Such a Beautiful Day, a feature film I knew nothing about, and it was a revelation. How could stick figures make me cry?
Then Don Hertzfeldt did it again with World of Tomorrow.

His new film is as minimalist as it is powerful. An entire life told through scribblings – no voice over, no character, just incredible storytelling. Turns out he doesn’t even need the stick figures to make me cry.

The film deservedly took home the Cristal for Best Short Film.

Watching these shorts and spending time in the newly opened animated film museum (that I highly recommend) made me feel like a kid in a candy store. It also made me want to learn more about the artists behind all these wonderful films.

It’s about time I send some emails.