Everyone knows about the test.
Everyone has to take the test.
Everyone knows the consequence of the test.
No one knows what’s on the test.
‘The Test’ is set in a dystopian society where everyone, once they reach eighteen, must take the test.
No one actually knows what it tests, but at the end, you either pass, or fail.
If you pass, you are invited into society. If you fail, you are excommunicated, destined to live with the rejects until death comes.
The narrative follows one particular girl as she is about to take the test. She is lead to a small empty room, and she sits and waits.
A series of objects start appearing, each with instructions on what she must do. One of the tasks includes cutting open a teddy bear, which has a beating heart in it.
Then, the final task is choosing between three people – a young girl, a convict, and a homeless person – and deciding who must die. The final task has her shaken, but she finally decides on the convict.
And is then forced to watch the final moments of the convict’s life, as she grows up, takes the blame for a crime to excuse her son, and then becomes homeless…
As much as I liked my initial idea, and liked how the framing device gave her more gravitas to complete the test, my continued research into Dystopia made me realize that the Dystopian narrative often struggles in short form.
(It follows that very few Dystopian short form films exist, and many of those that do are very expositional).
There is a reason this happens, though. Dystopian films are allegories of our modern day society – that is, they create narrative from some part of our modern world that people find frightening or threatening. As they are allegories, they rely heavily on narrative, needing to create the world in which the protagonist lives in and their situation. And, as Dystopias tend to exacerbate the situation it is scrutinizing, the protagonist’s situation is often separated from our own.
And though this serves it’s purpose in the long run – as the audience member enjoys the film, gets caught up in the narrative, then goes away and thinks, “Hang on! That’s just what it was like in the film!” it also changes their relationship with what is on screen. Distanced from their own world and their own experiences, the audience must relate to the protagonist and the protagonist’s struggle in order to get the film’s message. And while this allows them to go away and think about the film in depth later – which is where they will draw their own conclusions and parody it to their own existence – in the moment that they are watching the film, they are invested in the character and not themselves.
Which makes it really hard to do in short form. The first reason is simply being that time restrictions that make it difficult to build a world, develop a character and a narrative. Arguably, narratives do not work well in short films, let alone one where an entire society has to be introduced and established. And as Dystopia extends beyond the aesthetics of the world, and roots itself in the political functioning, it is near impossible to create this and still have time for a strong narrative. Purely on a practical level, Dystopias are near impossible to create in short form.
Which isn’t to say it can’t be done, but it is extremely difficult and can easily come off as forced.
The bigger part, though, has to do with who the audience is relating too. As I mentioned, a dystopia – being set in a separate world – distances the audience, and forces them to watch and relate to the protagonist. They are not relating to their own experiences, or emotions, and are informed by the protagonist’s decisions and narrative on how to feel. And though they then go away and process it, associating it to themselves, their initial reaction has been superficial.
And experimental film relies on the audience relating what is happening on the screen directly to their own experiences, and their own experiences in turn influence their emotional reaction to what the subject matter. The content on screen takes them on a direct journey, whether positive or negative, that doesn’t rely on the relationship they have with a character, but rather the relationship they have with themselves. It is therefore a much more pure artform, as it associates to the audience’s own feelings rather than ones processed through another character.
It also changes the stakes of what is happening on screen – having established stakes in the narrative (in my case, that the girl will be banished if she fails the test) means that the audience is no longer thinking about how the situation affects them, but how it affects our protagonist.
Which is where I realised I was going wrong.
Going with the Dystopian narrative would mean I have a lot more control over what the audience ends up thinking, but at the cost of them losing the freedom of their own thoughts regarding the topics of the subject. In my case, it means they know the test is bad, but they can no longer process why the test is bad, and what the consequences are. By leaving it more open, it allows for their own interpretation to be made.
Which has informed my decision to move away from that narrative. As James suggested, I have decided to move towards the idea of just have the girl in the room, with the sound design being a major component. I also like the idea of having other images and shots imposed over the base, all of which condemn the test and show that she’s losing her childhood/innocence, but without being too forceful with the message.
