Director: Fatemeh Zare
Running time: 5mins
Typically, I refuse to read through a filmmaker’s submission notes before evaluating a film. It should be able to prompt talking points in its audience without an accompanying essay. The fact that Human Layers is one of those films where I will have to break that rule says something in itself.
This is an inoffensive short animation which borders on being inconsequential. Over the course of its five-minute run-time, it explores the ways the behaviours of its two central characters differ in the office; when only in each other’s company; and when alone. And the primary response it seems to prompt is yes, and?
In the first environment, we see a man inspecting his coffee cup – sticking his nose in, before catching himself, and taking a big normal sip before placing it back on the table. We see a woman listening to music through headphones begin to bop about at her desk, before seeing her colleagues are spying on her. The point being that we put on a different mask, or ‘layer’ when we are in public – and in some cases, we might be more relaxed either in how we perceive ourselves against these norms, or when policing them in others. Who the hell cares if someone enjoys their coffee in a strange way, or likes a bit of a dance in their otherwise mundane job?
Fair play.
In the second environment, we see the two characters after they have shed another layer. The man and the woman are a couple, and are more at ease in each other’s company. The woman is clearly less concerned by the thoughts of others here, as she is happy to display her unshaven legs – while the man is all too happy to have attention on his nose now. His partner pushes and pulls his face about, before enveloping his proboscis with her mouth. A sign of a healthy relationship is often the comfort we have in the proximity of the other, of being willing to be seen as less than the preened and perfect norms inflicted upon us in public life, or to have weird little rituals we commit to reaffirm our connections – and these are often not things which would be acceptable in ordinary public life.
Also fair.
In the third environment, we see the two in their private spheres. The woman retreats into the bathroom, closing the door and letting her hair down before drawing a bath – and masturbating with the loofah. The man, meanwhile, is left to his own devices in the living room, finally indulging his own impulses, by fully sinking his nose into his coffee – before lapping some up like a cat. Not satisfied with this, however, for reasons known only to himself, he then begins listening to the call of the void, playing with a lighter – setting fire to the couch, the curtains and eventually his own backside. Here, we see that perhaps there are some boundaries which are healthy, layers which are important for our own welfare. We shouldn’t be knocking one out in anyone’s presence without consent, and certainly not in public. Likewise, with the arson (although the guy should probably bring this up with a therapist, rather than simply burying it as a thing for ‘alone time’).
That’s three for three.
But so what? There is not much revelatory about any of that, and for a stylistically minimal mode of delivery (the characters have a simplistic – admittedly charming – design, while their plodding movements are only very roughly animated) like this, you might expect a little more both in the intricacy of the plot, and innovation in its comedic beats.
Reading through the notes of Fatemeh Zare, I was able to find a little more substance in her intent. According to her, the “simple outline shapes with a limited colour palette” aims at “reflecting the absurdity and fragility of life”. This minimalistic approach “emphasises the vulnerability of human existence and the complexities of human relationships”. While that is a valid idea, however, I am not sure how appropriate or successful this choice was.
After all, things do not seem especially complex at all in terms of the lines drawn between public and private behaviour. And as quirky as the particularities of the relationship are behind closed doors, that is probably not news to many couples at all. Nothing especially pushes the boundaries here – and Zare does not take the opportunity to do more with less – as recently exemplified by fellow student film Safe Travels – that usually comes with taking a minimalist approach to animation.
This is still a film which has its heart broadly in the right place, and will manage to at least amuse audiences with its brief absurd or crude moments. But even with a micro-budget and a team of one, it is still not nearly imaginative enough, when it comes to exploring the inner layers of this apparently odd couple.