Together

_This review was written by S/W Curator Ivan Kander:_ Crafting a “simple” short is harder than it looks. All the typical low budget indie ingredients—a single location, a handful of actors, a dialogue-driven narrative—need to be utilized in just the right way in order to make something where the scrappy simplicity doesn’t undermine the entertainment or emotional impact. It’s, ultimately, the perfect creative challenge: sometimes limitations can yield the best results. Together is the third film I’ve screened over the past few months from director Brett Cramer starring actor Meg Cashel. All serve as proof that this creative duo has just sort of “figured it out” when it comes to crafting smart, small-scale low budget short-shorts. They present immediately engaging, character-driven premises that quickly spiral out of control, leaning into comedy but always finding a way back to emotional resonance. Partially the success here hinges purely on Cashel (who is also a co-writer on this project). She’s terrific and just incredibly good at handling neurotic comedic escalation—a sort of nervous rambling that starts small and quickly manages to touch upon deeper things as the words keep flowing. She goes big but never bombastic, and so, there is always a relatable vulnerability even when things are at their most awkward and comedic. Cramer also deserves a lot of credit for steering the ship. It’s a visually simple film, yes, but as he mentions in his No Film School article for previous S/W pick It’s Been Awhile, he puts a lot of thought into the craft of these projects, figuring out ways to use simple tools for peak efficacy. This comes down to smart lens choices and strong compositions, as well as a clear focus on pacing and timing in the edit. For a film that is literally just three people sitting in one place, it never feels boring, and that in and of itself, is an accomplishment. Beyond technical execution, for Together specifically, I like how the film uses the underlying comedic premise (a couple feigning piety in order to get “permission” to get married in a Catholic Church) to touch upon broader ideas about trust and belief in a relationship. As a Jew who married a Jew, I had it easy in this regard: my wife and I had a Jewish wedding and everyone’s bubbe was happy. This gets more complicated in “mixed belief” relationships and starts to probe at the actual importance of faith in one’s life. Is one religious for the optics of it? How much of what we do…how many choices are made…simply to avoid confrontation? Across its six minutes, Together probes a variety of things (my favorite tangent being about sexual agency and a woman’s control of her own body in relationship with Catholic dogma). Ultimately, though, the film is about people close to one another not actually talking with each other—that living with the aim to please someone else can, ultimately, metastasize into something malignant. As Cramer relates to Short of the Week: “I’m interested in the lengths some people will go to satisfy their partners –– even at the expense of their own happiness –– and how those well-intentioned choices can snowball into something damaging if left unchecked…We were hoping to achieve a truthful and nuanced snapshot of a rushed relationship, where failure stems mostly from good intentions instead of spite or toxicity." I mentioned it in my feature of It’s Been Awhile, but it’s worth noting again: I like how Cramer has been making shorts in quarantine without explicitly making “quarantine” shorts (he has more in the works). Again, this goes back to utilizing simple resources to peak efficacy in respect of the limitations of shooting during a global pandemic (Together was shot with just 6 cast and crew members), but it also shines a light on how uninteresting I have found most “pandemic films.” I could give a lick about dumb jokes focused on mask-wearing and Zoom calls: it’s my life right now, I don’t want to be reminded of it in the entertainment I watch. Moreover, I think making a film specifically about Coronavirus sort of limits its eventual efficacy. After all, there will be a time when we can take our masks off and go into the world again. So, it seems smart to be telling human relationship stories that will stay resonate long after “social distancing” becomes a choice, not a public health requirement.

_This excerpt is from a review written by Omeleto curator Allen Tsai:_ Directed by Brett Cramer from a script co-written with actor Meg Cashel, this dramedy is sharply witty and deeply serious in its portrayal of a couple navigating the line between keeping the peace and keeping one’s integrity. The film has a perceptive thoughtfulness on all levels, balancing both the humor of an awkward situation with the doubts and uncertainties it ultimately reveals. The short is essentially a long scene that leans on dialogue to move its story forward, and the visuals keep the focus on the couple’s unspoken thoughts and emotions. The moody, burnished cinematography plays against the sometimes antic pace of the dialogue, and though there is little camera movement, the editing and shot composition make sure the audience never misses a micro-reaction or fleeting thought from the couple. Visually, the film is a master class in how the simplest elements of cinematic art can yield terrific storytelling when leveraged with great thought, clarity and intention. But the strength of the film is its precise writing and excellent performances. There’s great humor in how Anna and Tom dance around the truth in their desire to win over the priest, as well as how the archaic beliefs of some religions don’t reflect modern relationships. Actor Meg Cashel nails the perfect balance between comic neuroticism and sharply critical thought, asking provocative questions not just about religious dogma, but about how to balance individual truth with the larger partnership. As the situation escalates, Anna can’t help but explode in a torrent of thought — one that reveals the deeper, thornier truths between the couple. Both warmly empathetic and accessibly cerebral, “Together” is quietly thought-provoking, using its humor to examine not just the role of religious faith in modern life, but also how silencing our voices to make a partner happy can open up great fissures of division. Just like how the film’s seemingly modest scale belies its precise craftsmanship, a simple pared-down scene becomes a tour-de-force of great insight and deep melancholy, when deep truths come out and fates of people shift in a new direction, forming the emotional earthquakes that make up the plot twists of ordinary life.