In Nannyless, unusual character design elements actually become a major plot point in the story. © Anna Blaszczyk.

Nannyless
The most lighthearted of this month's "FFF" entries comes from Polish animator Anna B?aszczyk, who created the short Nannyless during a five-month training period at the European Animation Masterclass in Halle, Germany.

The story is a simple one: a boy has an overbearing nanny, and he wants to strike out on his own and see the world on his own terms. On a visit to the big city, which is full of menacing, shadowy figures, the boy attempts to win over the populace with his odd attempt at dancing. His concerned nanny yells at him until his head falls off, and then...

Under normal circumstances, a character's spontaneous decapitation would be cause for great alarm, but this is not the case with B?aszczyk's character designs. The nanny is large and round, shaped not unlike a teardrop, while the boy's design involves a small body with a detached head and hands that generally stay where they should in relation to his body. While these design quirks aren't particularly out of the ordinary for an animated short, I can't think of many instances of unusual character design elements actually becoming a major plot point in the story. After the boy's head falls off, it bounces around the city for a while, pinball-style, and the nanny's girth ultimately trips her up and immobilizes her, allowing the boy a chance to break free and live his life as he sees fit.

Marc Craste's Varmints is an ambitious undertaking. A crew of 35 people worked in three countries over a two-year period to make the film. © Studio AKA, Inc.

Varmints
The most ambitious of this month's films is Varmints, a 24-minute CGI film based on the award-winning book of the same name, written by Helen Ward and illustrated by Marc Craste, who adapted and directed the film version. A crew of 35 people worked in three countries over a two-year period to make the film, including an original score by Icelandic composer Johann Johannsson and sound design by Adrian Rhodes (a sharp contrast to the quickly assembled, two-man operation of L'Eau Life).

The film opens with a beautiful shot of one of the titular "varmints" closely observing flowers in a lush, green meadow. Content with the splendor that surrounds him, he leans himself against a tree and surveys his field. His peaceful afternoon takes a dark turn, literally, as ominous clouds form, blotting out the sun. The source of the clouds is dust, kicked up by high-rise buildings quickly and mysteriously pulled into place by unknown means. As the buildings and smoke block out the sun, the meadow gives way to pavement, and the varmint barely escapes with his life and a small sprig of greenery.

By the next day, the varmint has no choice but to live in a tiny, oppressive, poorly lit apartment building and hold down a dreary job in an office building elsewhere in the city. He maintains a small semblance of hope through the small plant that he raises in a tin can on the windowsill of his apartment, and through brief glimpses and interactions with a female varmint who lives in his building.

Still, pollution and development continue unabated, and the varmint's spirit is battered and broken as the new world and the gradual death of his plant wear him down. He grows increasingly ill, and is near death himself when some stray seedlings that had taken root earlier in the film start to bear fruit and offer salvation from the skies. The varmint collapses, and awakens to find himself in a lush green field… which is contained within a floating jellyfish-like creature hovering above the city. The film ends on a hopeful note, as seeds fall from the creatures like snowflakes, at least temporarily brightening the dark and dingy metropolis.

Director Craste made this film with a young audience in mind, attempting to convey very serious environmental crises in terms of "private loss, on a small person's scale." It's difficult to say how effective this film will be in reaching a young audience, however, with a complete lack of dialogue, far from breakneck pacing, mostly downbeat story and ambiguous ending. The hopeful ending of the film relies heavily on the feeling of hopelessness that pervades the vast majority of the film, and audiences, young or old, don't look to children's programming for relentless despair and prophetic cautionary tales. The movie's message is a powerful one, however, and if the right children see it at the right time, its impact will be felt for generations to come.