How To Abandon Ship

You're not going to see many films that open with a meet cute involving subway hot-dogs and sucking mustard from scarves, nor many with credits for "Breast 1 & 2". It's a relationship story, but comparison to collage doesn't do its variety and invention justice.

Robin McKay's film isn't alone in using computer compositing to put human eyes on puppets - Seven Minutes In the Warsaw Ghetto did it for much bleaker reasons, but that's not say that How To Abandon Ship is cheery. With felt hair and pints of vodka this a relationship on the rocks. At one point in a discussion about coat-racks and tables it comes: "I guess we aren't going to the same places". There are entemological specimens, a Loew's Title card, a recipe for artificial cat faeces, a succession of lies being told, puppets fabricating details of lives that they are not leading with each other.

She likes to bury things - he's, well, his hobbies aren't as interesting, not as much worth looking into - a bit harder to notice. It's not just the eyes; there's a trick with an angle on some lips that shows a real sense of perspective and invention, but that's just one neat note among many. Its realism isn't textural or technical, but emotional - buoyed by crisp technique by Robin under each of her hats, writing, directing, animating, it'd be easy to call this a singular vision if there wasn't such a degree of invention. Indeed one almost wonders if Nate Diekman, Brittany Hubbard, and Michael Sanchez are merely aliases, but their performances are distinct even modified by projection through what one assumes was either careful compositing or perhaps a green balaclava.

A clear idea and good execution serve any film-maker well, and How To Abandon Ship demonstrates both in spades, and, indeed, eventually, with one. You should dig it out.