Bjorn Engstrom's TANGENT ROOM (2017)

An acting workshop, cleverly disguised
As some stoned  physics student's lamest thought
Experiment, just slightly stylized
Should not be watchable, yet here we've caught
A right rare'un. I won't say I sat on edge,
My pulse a-pounding, but neither did I fall
Asleep, at any rate, or so I'd pledge;
No one was watching me. We cannot call
This bloated, as films go, at least; it's lean
On cast and set and story, true lo-fi
Sci-fi, or maybe student work. That's mean
But that's most what this felt like. You and I
Could better spend our time than watching this,
Unless we'd spend it watching the abyss.

Andrea Arnold's WASP (2003)

It's maybe widely known that glamor's not
A feature of a single mother's days.
Well, here we get a concentrated shot
Of what that life can wreak upon her, gaze
Upon her squalor, and then watch her lie
When some old flame just spots her in the street.
From then the bad decisions seem to fly
Right at us, and the consequences meet
Us almost ere the mistakes can happen. This
Predicament is often played for laughs,
But here it's simply squalid, sad and hits
Us in the gut. Some clever edits graph
Trajectories of tragedy. We sweat
With Zoe's oldest daughter most, and fret.

Matt Sears' THE SKY (2020)

I love my lo-fi sci-fi, and it seems
The genre has a future, if the Earth
Continues turning, if small, nimble teams
Of young filmmakers keep at it. At first
This seems the most lo-fi, two women sit
In folding chairs out in the wilderness
And talk, and then decide to have a bit
Of magic mushroom as the End will bless
Or curse the whole world soon. Good cam'ra tricks
And psychedelic FX sure would be
Enough, but here the actresses, script, mix
Well with the other efforts. I will see
As much of Matt Sears work as e'er I may,
And hope we've years yet 'til the here-shown day.

Jeff Dolan's PHASE 6 (2019)

With just twelve minutes for to tell a tale,
Each aspect must be tight, all without waste.
Scripts must be tight, and dialogue can't fail
To be efficient, curt but still with taste.
And both of these prevail here, as do all
The SFX and art direction, though
The actors, as if Lucas made the call
To treat them like set-pieces, make this show
A bit uneven. Still, this harrowing
Account of med-tech turned to nasty ends
Is tense and good, is creepy, narrowing
The battle for the world to two young friends'
Own bodies. I do fear that wing-nuts
Will treat this as non-fiction, in my guts...

Aindriu Green's RAIN (2018)

The trolley problem, one that's old but good
Is illustrated in a brand new way.
A simple set and no effects e'er should
Be put to uses such as these, I'd say
(Though here, the valley is too canny - the
A.I. is just a human actress in the room,
Though excellent. But my own disbelief
Should be suspended for a short!). A doom
Has come upon a big tycoon. No grief
For him, though, only duty to find out,
Not whodunnit, but why. As stories go
This one is tight and challenging. I'd like
To see more of this fellow's work, to know
What else he and this crew, too. This strikes
Me as a good beginning all around.
Each aspect's great, yes, even light and sound.

Denis Villeneuve's NEXT FLOOR (2008)

The Platform, if reversed and cut way down
Is how we might describe this now, but ere
That weird conceit came this short, grey and brown
Yet glistening, a feast no one would dare
Partake of, yet these diners gorge despite
Some risks. Not since Pete Greenaway set out
To ruin restaurants has food less brought appetite
Up to the fore. What's all of this about?
It's short, go look on YouTube, but prepare
For frightfulness and creepiness and sounds
Of dining that will make you never care
To feed again as staffers make the rounds
A-keeping up the flow of haute cuisine
E'en as we slowly guess what this all means.

Kenneth Anger's FIREWORKS (1947)

How ev'ry damned emotion one could feel
Comes forth in thirteen minutes, I can't tell.
In that short span, the viewer's fed a meal
Of imagery, some raw, some cooked too well.
Deep shadows, lush and secretive, invite
Our exploration, then, as though a spell
Is breaking, stark and strong and sere and white,
The body beautiful is put through hell.
Sometimes it disappears, a landscape, or
An abstract pattern takes its place. No cell
Or tissue has been substituted, nor
A shred of clothing. Laugh? Too soon t'will quell
Your humor with some horror. Frame by frame,

The dreamer's dream can never be the same. 

Katarzyna Gondek's DEER BOY (2017)

Were this a comic book, there'd be no need
For speech balloons; this is sequential art
In motion, as a boy born with the seed
(Well, nubs) for antlers grows up. We see part
Of toddlerhood, young chilhood, then some scenes
As Deer Boy grows to Deer Man, with his pop,
A hunter, sawing off his glories (means
Of pure denial), forcing him to stop
His deering ways. Then deer boy learns to shoot!
Real deer are phantoms, or just shown as meat.
Meanwhile, it's Deer Boy's mother, tired and mute
Who stole the show for me. She goes from sweet
And proud to haggard, then is centered when
Her darling boy begins his life again!