MM Shorts – 2025 North West Independent Film Festival (Award Winners)

Fresh from gracing the inaugural North West Independent Film Festival (NWIFF) in Preston. Movie Marker sheds some light on their first year winners…

Best Student Short Film – FIRE CAT (William Stogden)

Whilst often implied that cats have nine lives, you hardly want to see these feline creatures in precarious situations at risk of merely losing one. Back in 2020 and just weeks old, the aptly named ‘Fire Cat’ was the victim of severe burns, left in dire need of around the clock care by veterinary nurse Jenni Gretton. Becoming increasingly attached themselves, we garner insight into the wider public adoration for the animal via home videos and their willingness to contribute to a happier future for them through crowd funders, as the surgeries mount up and the smell of smoke lingers. Tackling animal abuse can so easily tip into exploitative territory, zoning in heavily on the initial violence and cruelty. William Stogden keeps it minimal albeit still awfully troubling in its depiction, instead emphasising the growing sense of optimism through their rehabilitation, whilst executing neat visual flourishes particularly in the burning of polaroid photos that somewhat mirror the animal’s own ever-changing, unclear vision. Resulting in a mature work beyond the director’s years.

Best Documentary Short Film – PEGS AND BACON (Sarah Mason)

In a time when our faces are firmly planted in our phones and tablets. Enter director Sarah Mason and her film’s utterly endearing subject May, to remind us what true home comforts look like. A hidden gem along the Pennine Way, ‘Pegs And Bacon’ warmly welcomes us into the 84-year-old’s farm shop chock full of essentials, where the genuine essential here is the priceless human interaction, a ‘service’ May has generously offered for five decades. Interspersed with sweet anecdotes from dear friends Judith and Yvonne solidifying how invaluable she is, director Sarah Mason quickly drives home the unwavering energy and gentle nature of May in the film’s precious minutes, with the latter still a steady hand behind the steering wheel herself. At an age where you could so easily feel limited in your capabilities, May’s story preaches a genuine sense of freedom that whilst on the surface may seem simplistic, it will undoubtedly reach deep into many a heart.

Best North West Film – GOBSTOPPER (Jo Lane)

With distinct dialect and consistently hard-hitting stories, kitchen sink dramas are very much a cornerstone of British cinema. Showcasing a fierce bond between its female trio of Ash (Eve Darby), Charlie (Lancia Evers) and Trish (Kelly Condron), Jo Lane’s ‘Gobstopper’ is a skilfully directed, well-performed newcomer to the genre. Instead steering clear from potentially heavy-handed displays of alcoholism from its mother figure, Lane heavily leans into the younger perspective from Ash and Charlie here, navigating their days wheeling and dealing just to survive as Trish continuously disappears onto the streets without a word. The visual transitions in conveying the falsehood of the highs being chased, the low level framing in reinforcing those class barriers and the different versions of withdrawal that all these characters are seeking, are wonderfully assured by Lane. Rather like Trish in one sequence. If this went the physical media route, you’d be more than happy to pop a copy in a trolley home.

Best Short Fiction Film – BLACK DOG (Ed Kirk)

‘The devil runs these moors’, Adrian Bower’s troubled father declares. A genre that is often dismissed as just shock tactics and gore, but the truly great horrors are those that really penetrate into the psyche of our own real-world anxieties and fears. Immaculately shot in black and white, ‘Black Dog’ directed by Ed Kirk is a chilling, immersive examination of a collective depression shared by Bower and his on-screen son Edward Crook, as they desperately seek the light beyond the swirling dark clouds that blight their judgment. Phones dangling off the hook. Fabric of chairs torn to shreds. It’s a work that thrives on disconnection and discomfort, complimented by the heaviness in Bower and Crook’s figure movements, while they try to formulate coherent thoughts about their inner torment and growing unrest. To borrow another line from Bower, these thoughts ‘gnaw’ their way out as its evocative imagery seeps into the audience’s mind. In both performance and aesthetic. A slice of barking brilliance.