Director: Humberto De Luna
Writer: Humberto De Luna
Cast: Maya De Luna, Mateo De Susa
Running time: 8mins
Last week I talked about LOST, a film that masterfully centres on single-take scenes where the camera follows the action around one seamlessly choreographed performance. That is an exceptionally ambitious project for any filmmaker to undertake – and requires a level of discipline and guile that is especially rare among first-time student filmmakers.
Sitting directly on the other end of the spectrum is Celine: what you might favourably term a minimalist (but more accurately an unambitious) production in which a single actor performs lines in front of a static camera for eight minutes. It is a flat, uninspired piece of framing, which does not even make sense within the parameters of the narrative. Each scene sees Celine (Maya De Luna) speaking to an AI therapist on her laptop screen. It would therefore make much more sense to shoot this as though we are seeing this through the lens of the laptop screen. But the camera is conspicuously to the side of our subject, missing a chance for us to feel directly engaged by the story that the pedestrian writing does not compensate for.
Director and writer Humberto De Luna has had a long career as a camera professional – with his work featuring in music documentary U2: Rattle and Hum, TV show HBO First Look and even the 1990 Captain America movie. So, if you were to have told me that someone with that CV was responsible for either Celine or LOST, and the other was made by a fresh-faced student, I’d have probably guessed the wrong way around. While I appreciate this is his first time directing and scripting a film, I would have thought he would have a better understanding of how to use the lens of a camera to tell a story.
That technical side to the storytelling is sorely missed here, because De Luna’s script seems rather short on ideas. Considering the subjects touched upon are ripe for exploration, everything delivered is shockingly superficial.
Celine is a survivor of domestic abuse, who seems to have been unable to access a real, human therapist for guidance and support. This could be a sad reflection of the state of healthcare under capitalism – where many people simply cannot afford to access the crucial services that they need to recover from traumatic events that are no fault of theirs. AI is no doubt being viewed as a great advance in that respect, because it offers private practitioners a chance to fob less-wealthy patients off on a bargain-bin pseudo-treatment delivered by a glitchy robot, prone to regurgitating its own mis-information. And on top of that first angle, then, there is also the potential to explore the really-quite-rubbish interactions with the supposedly revolutionary technology most people have had so far – and to consider how they will pan out when it is hastily plumbed into some of our most important social services. None of this is really touched upon, though.
Instead, we get four or five segments where Celine is in an increasing state of distress. Maya De Luna does her best with what she is given to show this organically – her cautiously optimistic disposition gradually souring over the exchanges with her digital counterpart, as her former abuser tries to re-enter her life. But we are told so little about her as a person – her hopes and dreams for the future, what she missed out on in the past – that there is very little for the actor to do here. As a result, most of her flagging mental state is reflected by her hair an extra ruffle between takes, or adding an occasional coffee stain to her shirt.
Now, for the sake of other filmmakers who might avoid falling down this same hole, I will be talking about how this regretful cycle concludes. So, be warned, if you want to wait for Celine‘s theatrical release, there will be spoilers ahead.
In the film’s climax, her ex-boyfriend (voiced off-screen by Mateo De Susa) gains entry to the house, and we hear him slapping her in the face. The screen cuts to black, before final exchange with Celine and her therapist sees the AI fail to pick up on any visual cues – perhaps the only time its inadequacy to handle this kind of work is highlighted – including the black eye she is sporting, or the corn syrup-soaked kitchen knife she is caressing. It would almost be an amusing moment, were it not for the fact Maya De Luna was clearly instructed to fulfil a rather offensive trope here. Her voice has changed from the naturalistic tones of earlier, to slow, received pronunciation. Her eyes flitter from side to side and struggle to hold the gaze of her therapist. Her mouth twitches as she tries to put on a forced smile. Her nostrils flare as she considers “getting back to work” – suggesting she might even kill again now the cat’s out of the bag.
Celine has become that kind of abrasively insensitive Hollywood depiction of ‘insanity’ that really has no place here – especially as it comes after her most relatable action. Failed by a legal system that has only issued a piece of paper to protect her, and ignored by a healthcare sector that has fobbed her off with a digital dummy, she has killed her former tormentor in self-defence. Were her actions really so crazy? Humberto De Luna’s distasteful direction seems to suggest he thinks so.
Celine tells a coherent story, poorly. It threatens to touch on interesting topics, only to flinch back to the most tired mainstream clichés it can deliver upon. It’s strongest asset – the acting of Maya De Luna – is undermined by some questionable writing and directorial decisions. If Humberto De Luna plans a follow up, he needs to take more care when handling sensitive subjects, and perhaps bring in a larger team to help consider where the points of interest are in his story.
When a film is named after the young woman named ‘Celine,’ which means ‘heavenly’, is segmented with shots of the heavens, shot with a static camera by an accomplished cameraman who has probably hung out of cars, been whipped around by dollies and ran after many actors to get the perfect shot and made by a filmmaker who comes from a musical family (I Google’d) and choosing AI produced music, you have to prepare yourself for something more than a simple film and story.
From the film’s 8 minutes you surmised “Celine is a survivor of domestic abuse, who seems to have been unable to access a real, human therapist for guidance and support. This could be a sad reflection of the state of healthcare under capitalism – where many people simply cannot afford to access the crucial services that they need to recover from traumatic events that are no fault of theirs. AI is no doubt being viewed as a great advance in that respect, because it offers private practitioners a chance to fob less-wealthy patients off on a bargain-bin pseudo-treatment delivered by a glitchy robot, prone to regurgitating its own mis-information. And on top of that first angle, then, there is also the potential to explore the really-quite-rubbish interactions with the supposedly revolutionary technology most people have had so far – and to consider how they will pan out when it is hastily plumbed into some of our most important social services.”
Well written, btw, and probably longer than the script. The point is; AI is failing her. And, you got that.
When I think of some of the ‘great films’ I have seen, I have left with less, Kubrick’s 1975 ‘Barry Lyndon’…. beautifully shot, amazing natural light scenes shot with the fastest cinema lenses of it’s time, beautiful costumes. I could not tell you one thing about the story. Bresson’s 1959 ’The Pickpockets’… endless people walking through space. Can’t remember that story, either. Both films are on either end of the continuum of film budgets. Both have their place in cinema history. And, here comes this short little film, close to a $0 budget, that evokes much discussion about treating mental health ‘electronically’ and thinking / conversation about the film’s AI future. I really don’t think we should just compare it to lush, well made films that try to tell a complete story about a girl in trouble with an ex. ‘Celine’ is minimalism at its core; Ambient light (maybe a light or two for exposure), constructionist acting, an offscreen voice for an important character, no sound mix, AI music, no effects, no ADR or sound stings, fixed mic and strawberry jelly blood (you said “corn syrup”, we can agree to disagree).
I think your review is sincere but I am reminded of the early reviews of ‘Harold and Maude’ or ‘The Room’ or a thousand other films that eventually found an audience or was later examined on a different level or POV. Wasn’t it one one of the French New Wave film critics that said we have to participate with the film as we watch it? That it wasn’t a one direction experience. You may be looking for a tidy story that addresses some issues or offers some solutions. This is not a film like that.
The filmmaker DeLuna came from the wood shacks of the original USC Cine school (think Lucas, Zemekis, et al) where you were given a three hundred feet of 16mm film to make a three minute short, which is very hard to do, a challenge the new filmmakers will never experience. In the film days only a Kubrick or Coppola could enjoy the luxury of endless takes. Today, with video that is as good as film (for the most part, sorry cinephiles) it seems there will never be a bad ‘take’ – I am exaggerating, of course. I bring this up because DeLuna could have produced every angle, every emotion, every detail to tell the story you feel is missing.
We agree the young actress DeSouza is always exactly where she is supposed to be emotionally in every shot.
This film is the antithesis of the Hollywood Movie. And, I feel, it is intentional. It is minimalism with a polite FU to the big budget films and a warning that AI will ruin film forever.
In fact, I believe, in the end, what is thematically murdered is the art of filmmaking.
Wow…Jack Benjamin’s paid-by-the word review of the 8-minute short “Celine” rattled his cage to the point that he wrote a hit piece that was probably longer than the script itself. He unfairly compares it to a long-form short with multiple actors and crew, without mentioning its minimalist style. “Celine” makes its commentary on AI and domestic violence without an extra ounce of cinematic fat; short and to the point. The lead actress, Maya DeLuna, does crazy the right way, in increments, the way real people do. The lighting is naturalistic; no hair or beauty lights to make the actress prettier…she is supposed to look worse and worse in every scene. If you were paying attention (and it looks like Benjamin wasn’t…), the last two scenes went to a bluish cast, further enhancing Celine’s increasing psychosis.
Film should act as a societal disruptor and occasionally slap us upside the head. It certainly did that to the reviewer, who was so disrupted by “Celine”, that he wrote a long diatribe about an incrementally creepy and entertaining microshort that said more about AI in 8 minutes than other films say in two hours.
Catch it on YouTube.