Greener Grass from Gulp Splash on Vimeo.
Recently, I learned about the SXSW awards, so I watched Greener Grass, a winning short film from 2016. The off-kilter comedy, written by Jocelyn DeBoer and Dawn Luebbe, is awkward and surreal. The film pairs normal moments – like one couple asking another, “are you guys going anywhere for the Fourth [of July]?” – with totally bizarre scenes like when a child suddenly turns into a dog and no one bats an eye. It’s set on a soccer field, where two women vie for “perfection,” passive-aggressively competing over children, husbands, and more in a decidedly weird and paranoid world. The entire film feels nostalgic, with many scenes having soft light and blurred edges. At several points, but especially at 10:03, the audio amplifies this feeling through a cheesy 1950’s-esque soundtrack.
While the overall narrative progresses linearly forward, the film feels like a play comprised of numerous, self-contained acts. This is emphasized by fade-to-black transitions between each scene. The acting is likewise theatric. However, since one of the points the film seems to be making is that people – in the film and in real life – are just performing to avoid being judged, the stilted acting fits.
There’s also a gradual building of suspense. First, we learn that one of the main character’s friends has been murdered. Then, at 5:07, there’s a dramatic point of view shift that clues us in further. Vignetting (i.e. shading around the edges) paired with loud breathing noises and shaking convey clearly that we’re now viewing the scene through an outsider’s eyes, possibly through binoculars. This voyeur POV is signaled again at 7:25 where a scene between the two moms continues but on the other side of a hazy windshield. A few minutes later, the breathing and dark shading start up again with a shallow depth of field that contributes to the binocular feel. This pattern of POV shifts at intervals increases the suspense until it reaches a tipping point, when the voyeur is finally revealed.
The producers employed other odd editing techniques that contributed to the overall oddness of the film. For example, at 5:32 a rather jarring j-cut with dramatic music signals the shift from one day on the soccer field to another. Another POV editing trick the filmmakers used happens at 6:35, where the viewer understands that they’re looking at the main characters through a dog’s eyes because of an unusually upward camera angle. They also used super tight shots to boost the uncomfortableness of the film, like at 1:32 and 3:38. Here, the camera is hyper-zoomed in on the character’s mouths which emphasizes how they are striving for superficial perfection while nailing the producer’s apparent goal of unnerving viewers.
Another interesting series of editing choices was made at 4:05, where one character’s jealousy for the other is revealed. This is shown through over-the-shoulder shots where the viewer is tuned in to what the jealous character is focusing on, and then the camera slides slowly towards her envious face as the scene transitions into her pastel daydream.
There is so much to say about this short film. In particular, there’s a lot to learn from it about how to use a persistent editing style to convey greater thematic meaning. I think it’s also a clear case of people who know the rules breaking the rules. Many of the editing choices, from music to transitions, would usually seem corny and amateur. But because the filmmakers employed them consistently and deliberately, the result is as captivating as it is strange.
-Ashley