Omeleto | MORNING JOY | Omeleto @Omeleto | Uploaded November 2023 | Updated October 2024, 12 hours ago.
A man plays piano with a bird.
MORNING JOY is used with permission from John Henry Hinkel. Learn more at https://johnhenryhinkel.com.
A depressed pianist is sitting at his instrument, trying to summon the energy and will to play and compose. Recently widowed, he can barely bring himself to do much of anything, much less play music.
But when a cheerful songbird lands in his window, the pianist tries to chase it out, but the intrepid creature refuses to leave. Resigned, the pianist lets it stay. Encouraged by the bird to play, the pianist finds himself engaged in an unexpected duet -- one that both returns his zest for music and consoles him in his grief.
Directed by John Henry Hinkel and written by Ethan D. Pakchar (who also composed the film's stunning score), this lyrical, luminous animated short captures the moment in one widower's life when he finds hope and beauty during a dark time. Grieving for his late wife, he can't even bring himself to play music anymore. His world is quiet and lonely, and he's stuck in his sorrow and grief, unable to move forward. But then, at a small bird's insistence, he remembers music's intrinsic power to evoke, connect and heal.
Using animation's capacity for imaginative elasticity and music's universal power to evoke deep, almost inarticulable feelings, the storytelling eschews dialogue, preferring instead to create a symphony of beautiful images and music to capture the pianist's inner highs and lows. The visuals are painterly, in a hand-drawn style that emphasizes human tactility and feeling. The lines of the shapes of characters and space have a blurred fragility to them; the colors are soft, shadowy and darker at first. The overall feel is evocative, but also melancholy and even somber, reflecting the musician's state of mind after his wife's passing.
But the soft, clear light of morning fills the frames and also heralds the arrival of the home's morning visitor, a bustling, cheerful songbird. Watching the creature charm, wheedle and prod the pianist into playing his instrument is charming, even when the musician attempts to chase the bird out in a jazzy, almost comical interlude. But the film's emotional power comes to the fore as the man and the bird engage in a duet that is gorgeous and rhapsodic to listen to. The animation becomes infused with gentle light and pillowy blue hues that reflect the pianist's seemingly unwanted avian visitor, and as music fills the silence with a growing joy, the frame fills with a growing light before bursting into a symphony of color and sound.
It's an apt metaphor for a film about finding hope amid darkness. Intentionally lacking in dialogue, MORNING JOY relies on the universal language of music to drive the narrative, with the storytelling and visuals adding dimension and detail. All together, the elements achieve a catharsis for both the musician and the audience, coalescing into a wondrous display of joy and pure emotive power.
A man plays piano with a bird.
MORNING JOY is used with permission from John Henry Hinkel. Learn more at https://johnhenryhinkel.com.
A depressed pianist is sitting at his instrument, trying to summon the energy and will to play and compose. Recently widowed, he can barely bring himself to do much of anything, much less play music.
But when a cheerful songbird lands in his window, the pianist tries to chase it out, but the intrepid creature refuses to leave. Resigned, the pianist lets it stay. Encouraged by the bird to play, the pianist finds himself engaged in an unexpected duet -- one that both returns his zest for music and consoles him in his grief.
Directed by John Henry Hinkel and written by Ethan D. Pakchar (who also composed the film's stunning score), this lyrical, luminous animated short captures the moment in one widower's life when he finds hope and beauty during a dark time. Grieving for his late wife, he can't even bring himself to play music anymore. His world is quiet and lonely, and he's stuck in his sorrow and grief, unable to move forward. But then, at a small bird's insistence, he remembers music's intrinsic power to evoke, connect and heal.
Using animation's capacity for imaginative elasticity and music's universal power to evoke deep, almost inarticulable feelings, the storytelling eschews dialogue, preferring instead to create a symphony of beautiful images and music to capture the pianist's inner highs and lows. The visuals are painterly, in a hand-drawn style that emphasizes human tactility and feeling. The lines of the shapes of characters and space have a blurred fragility to them; the colors are soft, shadowy and darker at first. The overall feel is evocative, but also melancholy and even somber, reflecting the musician's state of mind after his wife's passing.
But the soft, clear light of morning fills the frames and also heralds the arrival of the home's morning visitor, a bustling, cheerful songbird. Watching the creature charm, wheedle and prod the pianist into playing his instrument is charming, even when the musician attempts to chase the bird out in a jazzy, almost comical interlude. But the film's emotional power comes to the fore as the man and the bird engage in a duet that is gorgeous and rhapsodic to listen to. The animation becomes infused with gentle light and pillowy blue hues that reflect the pianist's seemingly unwanted avian visitor, and as music fills the silence with a growing joy, the frame fills with a growing light before bursting into a symphony of color and sound.
It's an apt metaphor for a film about finding hope amid darkness. Intentionally lacking in dialogue, MORNING JOY relies on the universal language of music to drive the narrative, with the storytelling and visuals adding dimension and detail. All together, the elements achieve a catharsis for both the musician and the audience, coalescing into a wondrous display of joy and pure emotive power.
