Shoehorn/Office is a short film directed by renowned artist Ingrid Nachstern. Nachstern is the founder of the National Star Dance Company based in Ireland, and this film is her third exploration into the experimental/screendance realm of filmmaking. The film is a breathtaking surrealist depiction of sexism on several fronts, including but not limited to the workplace and the fashion industry. It goes above and beyond in portraying the restrictions of women in everyday settings, suffering under the heavy hands of sexual violence seeking a path for cleansing and rebirth in the hands of mother nature.
The piece does not follow a classical structure of narrative. It comes in powerful and poetic fragments that are often accompanied by a dramatization of misogyny through dance, surrealist imagery, and traditional embodied theatrical styles of performance.
Poetic language drives the narration. The use of limericks and one-liners by the men contrast images of women bewildered and bloodied. Mannequins and skinned poultry play the role of signifiers portraying the objectification of women. The use of the Kabuki theatre style of performance which itself serves as a traditional repertoire to perform violence, often including a weak mistress, is utilized in the scenes to create a haunting lonesome atmosphere for the female lead. Nachstern knows what she’s doing. She packs a heavy theme with strong and violent visuals, juxtaposing them with poetry built on repetition and a chorus style of hymns and other lyrical devices.
Men are in positions of power throughout the film. “Grab ‘em by the pu***”, “I am a bankteller. Who needs my open blouse to close your ‘skank’ bank account”, “No means yes”—mere examples of lines that signify the thread that Nachstern weaves throughout her film. These are all examples of the rape-culture at the brink of elimination with the modern movement of emancipating women from the male gaze. A posh man, with an open palm full of ‘treats’, reciting limericks that infantilize women stands out, the ultimate patriarch of the film who ends the piece with a leash in hand, tied around the neck of his ‘subject’ on all fours, slowly and eerily walking her, a symbol of his dominion over women. One does not need to go further than the 45th U.S president, the Weinsteins and the Crosbys and the countless others, unnamed but not forgotten, who embody the misogyny Nachstern tears apart in Shoehorn/Office.
Shoehorn/Office is a mix of jump-cuts and long takes, juxtaposing instant actions that leads to enduring pain. A heavy set colour-scheme, an aspect ratio of 16:9 brings the subjects at the forefront, paired with a grim colour scheme that blends awesomely with the content. Shakespearean mystical settings in forests capture the imagination of audiences and add to the surreal theatricality of the piece. Cinematographer Luca Truffarelli uses lenses and filters that set the mood perfectly. And costumes from The Abbey Theatre and The Costume Mill fit well with the theatrical backsplash used throughout the film. Nachstern’s choreography is brilliant. Embodied and theatricalization of sexual violence and rape and the adverse traumatic glitches depicting the female condition under such circumstances, the spiritual image of cleansing one’s body and soul compulsively in a body of water, a cabaret-esque parody of the workplace—Nachstern knows how to tell a story through physicality and movement. It brings me to wondrous questioning, knowing how distant audiences are to such graceful and impactful forms of art. Outside of the festival realm, such pieces can hopefully be granted greater platforms of distribution to create a demand for them.
Watching Shoehorn/Office, especially during Covid where in most places theatres are either shut down or limited, Nachstern’s theatrical choices fill a gap and rekindle a yearning to have the theatre back up running again.
This Irish film has a run-time of 10 minutes. But as it often is with poetry, dance, and experimental imagery, it bends time and space in a way that the run-time becomes irrelevant. It runs in your head after its end, its whispers linger in your psyche, looking for answers to questions the film brings about. It should be to no one’s surprise that the piece has been rewarded with an IndieFest Award in California, won a Best Shorts Award in LA, and an Audience Choice Award at the Brooklyn Film Festival to name a few.
By: Darida Rose
© 2020. UniversalCinema Mag.