In the wake of a wonderful Mother’s Day, an animated reminder of the way we children and our lives are woven together with those of our mothers, shaping them and their memories just as deeply as they shape us and ours.
Again, lots of wonderfully subtle little touches. Like the way the short uses Grandma’s glasses to highlight her emotions, making great use of the exaggerated magnification. Or the way you so rarely see the top of her hair and have no real frame of reference for its length/volume/height, foreshadowing the moving final sequence. Or the slight rounding of the corners of the frame, like the edges of an old photograph. And I love the way we start to see the backstory in little dribs and drabs early on — the wall of pictures is key here — so that everything clicks into place by the finale. And the music, reminding me once again that there is never a bad time to use the cello. And, of course, the way her hair ties everything together; its waving strands and her wavering memories blending together, recalling and calling and drawing her home. (But my favorite bit? The way she eats the cherries as she’s garnishing those treats. Fantastic.)
More on this particular short can be found here, thanks to Cartoon Brew. Unsurprisingly, it’s based on creator Barbara Bakos‘ own childhood memories:
The idea of the film came from my family and from my own grandma. When I was a child, I spent most of the time with my grandparents because I never wanted to go to the kindergarten. So I had a lot of lovely memories and adventures with them. We would sit in the backyard playing with little fingerpuppets, painting, and baking cherry pies together, and I was always amazed at how much my grandparents loved each other. Since my grandpa passed away, my grandma lives alone. Her personality, her feelings, memories and her point of view inspired me to make this short film about her lifelong love, and about that state of mind where you just can’t let go of the most important person in your life.
I was pleased to see Father and Daughter (from Michael Dudok de Wit) mentioned as an influence. They have a very similar mood, come to think of it. Not bitter-sweet, exactly, because they’re far sweeter than they are bitter. Melancholic, perhaps? Or appropriately nostalgic?
Attribution(s): All artwork, publicity images, and stills are the property of their respective creators and/or distributors.