Friday, October 10, 2025

Film Reviews: There's Nothing There & The Knowing

"There's Nothing There"

 ** 1/2 (out of ****)

Short films can be a wonderful tool for filmmakers to develop ideas, learn their craft, and be launching pads for feature-length films - in most cases the director's ultimate goal.  This year's blog theme, Life is Short - my year long look at short films has given me the opportunity to watch several short films and with it being October, I've turned my eye towards horror films.

If there is one thing I dislike about short films it is that they are largely academic, textbook examples of filmmaking. Given the limited running time, they rely heavily upon symbolism and metaphor to tell their stories. Feature-length making does as well but in short films it is more compact and serves as a shorthand to introduce themes. If you aren't steep in your knowledge of symbolism, the average viewer will miss it.

I've selected two shorts; "There's Nothing There" (2023) and "The Knowing" (2023) that focus on similar themes of trauma and remorse and use many of the same symbols. That's what I meant by textbook examples. When I was studying film at Columbia College in Chicago, and made my own short films, I learned the same symbolism these filmmakers used and how to quickly get information across the screen. My eyes are able to zero in on it with lightening speed.

But I also chose these two short films for another reason. One was directed by a man - Alessandro Russotti and the other a woman - Erin Lovett. I thought it would be interesting to see how men and women examine similar themes. Both short films also center their stories on female characters, strengthening the comparison.

"There's Nothing There" - which can be seen on YouTube - literally begins with a woman (Maxine Denis) walking into her condo apartment, staring at herself in a mirror. Without knowing anything about the plot, I immediately knew this story was going to be psychological, revolving around inner emotional conflict. In film, a mirror is a symbol for duality, because it cast a reflection. That is what I meant by short hand to introduce themes. The film runs just under 15 minutes and within under a minute the director tips his hat to what kind of story this will be, if your eye catches the symbolism. Short films demand this type of economical storytelling. Practically every frame has a symbolic or metaphorical purpose.

As the woman (the credits call her Kate) stares at the mirror and her phone, a caption appears on screen stating an incoming call from Richard (voiced by Alex Gravenstein). Richard is either a husband or boyfriend who she lives with. He is out of town for work. Their first line of dialogue is about Kate's confusion regarding how Richard can call her because of his phone's poor reception. This is going to become another symbol for a poor line of communication between the couple. The dialogue feels a little awkward and we can sense Kate's uneasiness answering questions. Richard for example somehow knew Kate was out the previous night. She says she was with a friend, Danielle (Jessica Barbusci) celebrating her twenty-eight birthday but later in the conversation says the friend turned thirty. Clearly Kate is not telling the truth. During the conversation we see a pair of drinking glasses and Kate pours herself a glass of juice. In film school we are taught that glass can both symbolize truth and transparency as well as the fragility of life and relationships.

When the phone call with Richard ends, we are shown a flashback of the party Kate was at. After doing some shots she begins to dance by herself when a man approaches her from behind. His hands fondle her body as he kisses her neck. Kate doesn't make any attempt to move away and the two keep dancing. A messy bedsheet implies more than dancing went on between the two.

While Kate was on the phone with Richard she thought she saw a man standing outside, looking up at her apartment. Suddenly the door handle turns but the door is locked. The handle begins to move in a frantic, violent manner, scaring Kate. But when it suddenly stops we are meant to ask ourselves, did that really happen or did Kate imagine it?

That becomes the hook to Russotti's film. How much of what we are seeing is taking place inside Kate's mind? Did the door handle really move? Was the phone conversation real? Is everything a figment of Kate's imagination, representing something deeper?

The situation escalates when the man Kate was dancing with appears in the apartment, though we never see anyone enter through the door. His appearance causes the glass with Kate's juice to shatter and broken glass becomes another symbol. At this point in the story most viewers should grasp what is going on. Kate cheated on Richard at the party and now either that man is back or Kate's guilt and remorse over the incident is catching up with her; causing Kate to deal with her inner emotional conflict.

This doesn't seem to be an entirely new concept for Russotti. He appears to like to center his films around issues of morality, as seen in another work of his, "Street Walker" (2023). That film wasn't as academic and mechanical as "There's Nothing There" but I get the sense Russotti focuses on female characters because they are a trope in the suspense / horror genre - a la the damsel in distress - and not because of an interest in telling stories from a female perspective.

Nevertheless the actresses that do appear in his short films are quite talented. Maxine Denis has a great deal of talent and I am eager to see her in more mainstream productions. I've known, worked with, and reviewed amateur actresses, Denis is a step above. Her craft will grow as she appears in more of these short films. She already understands how to use her body to project emotion, create a presence on screen and engage an audience.

"There's Nothing There" faces a familiar challenge for short films; which are made on limited budgets. It confines a lot of its action to a single location. That isn't necessarily a bad thing. In the right movie that can represent claustrophobia. The problem with this particular location is it is quite small and has an open floor plan with a bedroom. It is difficult to create and build suspense and horror in such a location. A larger home with more rooms - i.e. more hiding spaces and treacherous corners - would have created more opportunities for suspense.

Technically I can't fault the filmmaking and did like one sequence Russotti created when stops time and Kate is revisiting the party as an onlooker. Everyone but Kate and her friend are active and everyone else is frozen. It is a device we have seen in various Christmas Carol adaptations and even more recently in Francis Ford Coppola's "Megalopolis" (2024). It is a visually dynamic way to force the audience to pay attention to a specific detail.

"There's Nothing There" is a technically well-made short film but a bit too mechanical. There is no true emotion to what is going on. It has a formulaic, by the numbers sensibility to it. We aren't completely drawn to the lead character because we haven't been made to care about her enough. You can however see how "There's Nothing There" would be a sequence in a larger movie.

"The Knowing"
 *** (out of ****)

If "There's Nothing There" would be a sequence in a larger movie, Erin Lovett's "The Knowing" (2023) - also available on YouTube - is a beautiful three act structure within itself. Running roughly one minute longer than Russotti's film, "The Knowing" is a fully structured storyline. Nearly all of the elements are there to turn this into a feature-length film.

"The Knowing" is a deeply emotional, psychological and personal story of woman dealing with the trauma of a miscarriage. No one in the film says the word but Lovett finds a perfect metaphor when the lead character cuts her finger and her blood splats on the floor. All is immediately understood and draws a comparison to "There's Nothing There". Both movies have a woman cut her finger, symbolizing internal pain but Lovett and "The Knowing" convey more than symbolism; they add a layer of emotional depth to the image.

The film utilizes a flashback format - which I found slightly confusing at times - to tell the story of Lea (Anna Wood), a freelance reporter and a glass artist dealing with the lost of a child as she takes a break from the world and her husband (Rafi Silver) by visiting a cabin in the woods. 

Once again words aren't spoken but their implications are there. An artist creates. Creation is life. Life is contrasted with death. At the cabin Lea begins to have brief sightings of a dark mysterious figure. Is it her imagination? The Grim Reaper? A representation of her grief and trauma? The vision first occurs when she is working with red stained glass - signifying the same thing it did in "There Nothing There" - and looks through it. The figure is gone when Lea stares out with her naked eye but she instantly hears distant whispers.

During Lea's time in the cabin she is triggered into flashbacks highlighting her relationship with her husband. It ranges from his desire to become a father to the moment when she reveals she is pregnant. One powerful scene has the couple discuss the implications of Lea having a baby. The dialogue stresses the financial difficulty of raising a child as well as the sacrifices that a woman must make. Lea tells a story about her mother having to give up on her education in order to raise children.

This seems to be the thrust of what "The Knowing" is thematically hinting at. It is about the horror and trauma within that women experience. It isn't fully explored as well as it could be in a feature-length format but an addition story of a woman who had a "back alley" abortion suggests this is a story about women and motherhood, societal expectations of mothers, and the devastating consequences that can occur.     

As with "There's Nothing There", the lead actress carries the film. Anna Wood is remarkably good in the role. She has acted in some mainstream television productions, appearing in episodes of shows such as "The Good Wife", "Madam Secretary" and "Law & Order". It is quite apparent she is no amateur. Her acting craft shines through as she expresses a wide range of emotions from guilt to fear. We not only accept her as a believable character, we actively follow her on her journey.

It seems to be in line with the work of the director, Erin Lovett. This is her narrative film debut but she has directed episodes of two CNN docu-series, "Our America with Lisa  Lang" and "This is Life with Lisa Lang". That background implies a desire to tell real world stories from an emotional perspective. That is what gives "The Knowing" its strength. For a short film it is grounded in the techniques of filmmaking but has emotional weight. Lovett did direct a Lifetime television movie called "A Deadly Threat to My Family" (2024), which sadly I have not seen. I do however look forward to seeing more of her work.

By the time "The Knowing" ends, I was reminded of Jennifer Kent's fantastic horror film "The Babadook" (2014). Both films suggest people must learn to find ways to live with their grief and not let it control them. Kent found a terrific symbol for "feeding the beast" that I slightly prefer to Lovett's final image but it is just as powerful in a quieter way. It would be great to see Lovett's get the opportunity to expand this story in a feature-length film as Kent did with her short film, "Monster" (2005).

The value of watching short films is to be able to discover new talents like Erin Lovett and Alessandro Russotti. Both have potential but Lovett comes off as the more complete filmmaker - technically aware, mature, emotional and honest. "The Knowing" has moments of suspense and compassion. It shows how much narratively you can get out of a fifteen minute movie.