How do you make it in the arts? If you’re not a nepo baby or Bob Iger’s neighbour, then the answer might be to constantly hustle and dodge never-ending rejection emails for eternity, then you might break in. As a balm, many creatives act like they’ve already arrived, despite their work going unnoticed – I’m sure the term is bohemian?
Director Gavin Reid isn’t interested in spinning that kind of yarn. From his bonkers costumes and Lynchian art style, this guy is different. He’s an unusually candid art school graduate who’s struggling to kick-start a career as a filmmaker; then there’s his volcano sculpture. A giant six-foot tall, papier-mâché monstrosity that’s been eroding in his father’s shed for five years, a metaphor for Gavin’s agony to prove himself not only to the art world, but his reserved, media-shy dad.
The elder Reid (who goes mysteriously unnamed throughout) is a man of few words, utterly reluctant to appear on screen for anything more than a fleeting cameo, yet continually encourages his son, through voiceover and interviews, to follow his dreams. Father and son come from opposing worlds, and the volcano is the perfect oddball centerpiece to their tricky dynamic.
In lesser hands, these weighty emotions could derail the film. Especially when the creator is also the subject, but Reid manages to stay unusually objective. In an age where the masses are consumed with cultivating quasi-Disneyland versions of their lives, he seems indifferent to the purification of his image. There is no filter here, which is brave.
Instead, we witness a struggling creative and an empathic parent trying to tune into his son’s frequency, but wrestling against his own blue-collar experience of the world. So, his father is fairly courageous, too.
Unlike most fresh-out-the-box directors, Reid handles theme with impressive skill. His ability to swim in deeply personal waters is his edge, though the filmmaking itself leaves something to be desired. There isn’t a robust visual language to match the strong emotional underpinnings, so we remain in YouTube video territory. Yet, the usual pitfalls of young directors – films without substance, or edge – aren’t present here.
Given the same assignment, not many semi-pro filmmakers could portray such a personal look behind the curtain. Not with similar courageousness. It certainly makes for compelling storytelling, and Reid’s wide array of papier-mâché creations definitely speak to an artist with a whole lot of flair.
MY DAD AND THE VOLCANO screens at The Big Flick (Glasgow) on December 5th, and Volcano Cinema (Edinburgh) on December 7th.
Plus London Short Film Festival, January 2025 [dates to be confirmed]
