Stories that stay with you
I recently had the pleasure of attending the Filmmaking Foundations workshop hosted by the Quezon City Film Commission. The daylong event emphasized the short film as a filmmaker’s calling card, and we spent the entire session exploring its nuances. As a short story writer and aspiring filmmaker, I was in heaven.
The nine-hour workshop inspired me to reflect on the power of short films. I’ve always admired how, paradoxically, limitations often lead to greater creative freedom, reminding me that storytelling rules are not as rigid as they may seem.
The five short films in this week’s piece prove that length is no measure of impact. In fact, these stories are all the more powerful because of their brevity. In just a few minutes, they manage to be funny, moving, disturbing — or all three.
One-Minute Time Machine
Director: Devon Avery
What it’s about: James is eager to use his one-minute time machine to win over Regina until he discovers the unintended consequences of tampering with time.
This film playfully blends sci-fi and rom-com tropes. Despite its rapid pace and sub-seven-minute runtime, it successfully delivers a full comedic arc, establishes the rules of its universe, and concludes with a hilariously unexpected visual twist.
Of all the films on this list, One-Minute Time Machine is perhaps the most accomplished. Director Devon Avery convinced actors Erinn Hayes and Brian Dietzen to join the project based on the strength of the script alone. Remarkably, the seven-minute short took nearly 13 months to edit.
Avery’s work is a reminder that big ideas don’t require big budgets, just sharp execution.
Big Take
Director: Alex Brooks
What it’s about: While on the run, two criminals accidentally choose the same hiding spot and end up eavesdropping on their pursuers.
Big Take is like a cinematic mashup of Quentin Tarantino and Edgar Wright — slick, kinetic, and bursting with visual style. The film unfolds almost like a music video: no dialogue, just movement, rhythm and tension.
Here, the camera itself becomes the language. Through fast cuts, stylized sound design and precise color grading, the short tells a cheeky, suspenseful story purely through energy. It’s a reminder that a distinct visual style can often say more than words ever could.
The Cook
Director: Vincent Bossel
What it’s about: A young chef prepares a mysterious dish.
The film opens in a professional kitchen. Classical music scores the chef’s movements, adding a sense of grace until we see him roughly chop a cannabis strain. After meticulously preparing a joint, he smokes it, alone, in a dark room. In the final scene, he stares at his hands in a mirror, as smoke drifts from his lips.
What drew me in was the ambiguity. Is he a prodigy wasting his talent through addiction? Or an addict envisioning a better version of himself?
Told without a single line of dialogue, the film leaves viewers with more questions than answers. It invites interpretation, offering either a tragic memory or a hopeful what-if, depending on how you choose to watch it.
Fry-Up
Director: Charlotte Regan
What it’s about: An intimate portrait of what may be a family’s last day together.
Fry-Up is a masterclass in restraint. It captures quiet moments: a family preparing a meal as their son faces his final day of freedom. Regan avoids exposition, instead letting viewers piece together the narrative through silences, glances and gestures.
Dialogue is minimal, yet the emotional impact is profound. Regan resists melodrama, choosing instead to focus on the mundane rituals of family life — the small, loving acts that carry deep meaning. The film doesn’t dwell on the crime that brought them here; it asks us to sit with the weight of what’s been lost.
Portrait of God
Director: Dylan Clark
What it’s about: A religious girl prepares a school presentation about a painting titled Portrait of God. What she sees challenges everything she believes.
For horror fans, short films may be the genre’s ideal format. With limited time, there’s no room for overexposure. The less you know, the scarier the story becomes.
Director Dylan Clark leans into this with a Lovecraftian tone. Portrait of God brims with existential dread, evoking the fear of confronting the incomprehensible. The horror doesn’t come from gore but comes from the chilling idea that some truths lie beyond human understanding.
Though brief and light on dialogue, the film’s final act grips you with escalating tension and a creeping unease that lingers long after it ends.
These five short films demonstrate a core skill every filmmaker should master: the ability to tell a concise story with definitive purpose.
In the hands of the right director, time is just a tool. Whether they make us laugh, cry or squirm, these films prove that great stories don’t need sprawling runtimes. Short films demand clarity, bold choices and emotional efficiency. The format rewards experimentation and distills storytelling down to its essence.
