A devastating, ambient dream of a short film, Martin Klapperbein’s Wake is a divine piece of filmmaking that stands out with just how hauntingly gorgeous it is. The collaboration between Klapperbein and writer/creative director Liam Higgins has resulted in a visually stunning and emotional film.
When a man (Michael Wamara) loses his wife and unborn daughter, his world falls apart as he tries to cope with the pain and grief that courses through him.
From the very beginning, Wake promises a visually intriguing experience for its 7-minute runtime. for its 7-minute runtime. The man wakes up in a dilapidated home on the cusp of falling apart; ceilings have caved in, and the house is barely functional. But is this the man’s real house, or is it his mental state shown in a visual form? You could analyse the meaning of the shots we see for an age and still not do it justice.
Klapperbein and Higgins have made a short film that works best when you just let it flutter through you and allow whatever your feelings are to work its magic. The shot compositions here in Wake are also something to marvel at because they are phenomenally gorgeous. Each shot is filled with meaning that it just envelopes you.
The auditory elements of Wake are equally captivating. The visuals draw you into the film, while the score from Alaskan Tapes adds a haunting, ethereal quality that perfectly complements the on-screen emotions. The delicate precision with which these elements are woven together almost makes the film overwhelming in its impact.
Michael Wamara is heartbreaking as the grieving widower and father in Wake. He is broken, unable to seemingly function, and he presents astonishing vulnerability as he shuffles around and eventually breaks down at the sight of the piano being played. Yet there is a strength present that allows you to have hope for him, that even in the worst time anyone could imagine for a person, healing can happen, and that although they are gone, he doesn’t have to follow them to an equally tragic end.
Wake is truly mesmerisingly aching because of how powerfully it works on you. You feel everything: that ache for wanting back what has been taken, that ache of not experiencing those vital moments of a child’s future. Even if our character is now steering himself to the healing phase of his grief, that aching feeling is one that will never leave, and after seeing Wake, it will take a while to leave you, too.
★★★★★
For more of our coverage of the HollyShorts Film Festival, please check out our reviews below.
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