The slapstick horror of a pop quiz, averted by the magic do-all jacket, out of the pockets of which pop a math whiz, a cheerleading squad, a circular saw, two ferrets, a tattoo artist and the Hubble. The protagonist receives an A from the teacher and the 3-minute film receives 5 stars from the reviewing panel.
The make-my-heart-stop, honest sexuality of a music video portraying a young man, accompanied by the Arctic Monkeys’ tune “I Bet You Look Good on The Dance Floor,” making love to his automobile.
An ode to Mel Brooks, Abrahams/Zucker and Harold Ramis in the form of an ad for PoopCo. We adults laughed so loud at all the butt jokes that judges from the 2D art competition came in to see what was wrong with us. I snorted Diet Coke out my nose.
The lazy filmmaking, letting the camera get out of focus and not reshooting the take; forgetting to white balance in one shot and then adding a bunch of weird colors in post to make it seem like it was on purpose.
The mistakes of the inexperienced—cliché shots (but the poor babies haven’t seen enough films to know it’s cliché) like people fading out from the final scene one by one.
The mistakes of the rushed—a great film, but it was submitted as a FinalCut project file because they “didn’t have time” to master it.
The risk-taking of the unafraid, the bold. The girl with no makeup talking directly to the camera about wanting to kill her father.
The beautiful student sculptures in the lobby: shapeless raku crabs fighting their way out of a ceramic ocean. They were so moving that I bought them from the young artist.
How life-affirming it must be to be a teacher of these creative spirits.