The faces on the puppets in Suzie Templeton's Dog are especially poignant and haunting. © The Royal College of Art 2001.

Dog
Giving new meaning to the word "bleak," Suzie Templeton's haunting and perfectly pitched puppet animation employs minimal means to explore a troubled father-son relationship transpiring amid surroundings that give new meaning to the word "squalor." Yet, though the extremity of the characters' circumstances borders on a kind of very black humor, the film is in fact remarkably effective at conveying a real sense of sadness and loss, an impression made more powerful by the ambiguity that informs the dialogue and the equally meaningful silences. Comprising half a dozen short episodes, Dog derives most of its impact from Templeton's incredibly expressive characters, but everything from the lighting to the voices to Kostas Kyriakidis's otherworldy music is extremely well judged. Ultimately, Dog is probably too slight and a bit too sketchy to be judged a completely successful finished piece; however, Templeton demonstrates great skill and control, and a remarkable ability to generate complex emotions from nonliving actors.

After completing a science degree at University College London, Suzie Templeton spent several years having assorted adventures before deciding, while working at a women's refuge in India, to be an animator. Returning to England, she attended the Surrey Institute of Art and Design, where she made her first film, Stanley (1999), and then the Royal College of Art, where she made Inside (2001) and Dog. Among her influences are Jan Svankmajer, Jean-Pierre Jeunet (specifically Delicatessen), Tom Waits and Alan Sillitoe. She is currently working in association with Channel 4 on a "darkly comic version" of Prokofiev's Peter and the Wolf.

A woman must make a horrifying decision on 9/11 in From the 104th Floor. © Serguei Bassine 2002.

From the 104th Floor
It's hard to know what to write about a film on such a loaded subject — the events of 9/11 and in particular the imagined thoughts and actions of a woman who jumped to her death. The text, read by Rosie Perez, is a heartfelt and beautifully understated poem written by a 14-year-old girl, Leda Rodis, and I'm tempted to think that its power is in some ways tied to its original form as words on a page, or as a piece to be read aloud, and that its effectiveness has been somewhat diluted by being given concrete visual form. That said, however, director Serguei Bassine has created a film that's both moving and discomfiting, not only due to the intimate depiction of a fellow human's final minutes, but also as a result of the surreal contrast between the horrific reality being depicted and the almost serene quality of the narration. The simple black-and-white images, which were hand-drawn except for one rotoscoped sequence, are eminently appropriate to the subject matter, and the film effectively transmits the strange mix of mundane observations, memories and emotions being processed by the narrator as she contemplates her severely diminished choices.

Serguei Bassine is a recent graduate of NYU's graduate film program. His first short film, the multi-award-winning Because of Mama (2001) premiered at Sundance, where From the 104th Floor also had its first screening. Bassine recounts that in the wake of the World Trade Center disaster, before making this film, he would often stand up and recite Leda Rodis' poem to his fellow passengers as he rode the subway between Brooklyn and Manhattan. Invariably he was touched by the feelings of hope the poem inspired. From the 104th Floor was funded by Showtime Network, for whom it was initially produced.

Jon Hofferman is an independent filmmaker, writer and graphic designer. He is also the creator of the Classical Composers Poster (a unique work of art that makes a wonderful gift for anyone interested in or learning about classical music, available at www.carissimi.com) and a shameless promoter.