Love makes you great. — Could that be the corny and namby-pamby slogan for the no less shoddily and sentimental short film by T. Raminson? In the ghostly, but nevertheless down to earth opening scene at the railway station you see a chevalier like guy floatingly as well as decidedly entering the platform. Foremost by watching the film a second time you see him followed by an inconspicuous girl. She’s his girlfriend.
In the second shot there you have a half portrait of him, while his girlfriend’s head is moving at the foot of the screen – like the figures in the shooting stands, which to visit without hesitation one drools over; with quavering hands and excitable eyes. Well, she’s going to be shot – figuratively – too, since he’s leaving (but maybe not parting with) her.
The train arrives. He gets aboard. The train leaves. And with him her full coloured distractibility.
Now she does, what everybody is doing as the world turns into a grey, gooey soup. First, give an unbroken chain of empirical evidence that the world is the void of a nothing. Look out the window. Second, create a mental counterworld. Remember all the beauty. Third, materialise the mental counterworld. In her case, she’s drawing a comic. She and him. Hand in hand. Happy.
Well, as you can see, in the world of love she’s not a mushroom collecting forest dwarf, that has to satisfy the somehow sarcastic lewdness of a raw knight. No, instead she’s the determined and playful, model like beauty. (By the way, notice that she’s now of the same height as her lover). It is she, who catches him and gets him out of stoic maleness. There is something to be experienced – prideful together.
Love makes you great. This is real, since it doesn’t make sense to speak of a reality in itself. To love and to be loved makes you great.
Yes, that sounds like a trashy phrase on much more slushy postcards, that portray mice with monstrous and fluffy feet, which are not there to be used for walking, but only to let burst pinky bubbles of infantile taradiddle in grown-ups. But as it is with anything in life: a slight shift changes everything. Kitsch needs not to be seen as idiotic bunkum, but can be the expression of childish lightheartedness. That’s a difference. Something small can mean a world.
And that’s the power of this short film. It’s kitsch! Totally! But it works. Yes, the techniques of filming are obvious: close-ups, where they belong, perfect cuts etc. But in spite of its obviousness it’s not ridiculous. It just works fine. Surely it’s not brilliant, but I like it: the way the film is made and it’s meaning.
Finally, let me show two further beautiful aspects of this film. First, the film shows love for details. Look at her hair for example. While she is with him and after he left.
Second, … and with this thrilling shot I’ll finish this critique.