A smart and disarming reimagining of the potentially stereotypical awkward fumbling for an escape after a one-night stand, Blake Rice’s one-night stand short, DISC, screening at Tribeca Festival, is as acidically sweet as a lemon dipped in sugar
As far as clichéd movie scenarios are concerned, the aftermath of meaningless sex must be right up there. The one-night stand is a classic weapon in the rom-com arsenal, and director Blake Rice’s short DISC initially threatens to walk down that very well-trodden path. However, with a chameleon tone shifting from genuinely anxiety-ridden, teeth-grinding seriousness to a light and hung dog fish out of water type comedy, the film is as acidically sweet as a lemon dipped in sugar.
We open on Alex (Victoria Ratermanis) waking up in a hotel room, discombobulated and imminently on stage at a business conference, having hooked up with Carey (Jim Cummings) the night before. We do not see said hookup; rather, it is obviously and sensorily implied by the setting and Rice’s smart use of sound in his direction over otherwise monotonous images. Alex wants out, and Carey, who is expertly played by Jim Cummings’ effective brand of bumbling nice guy, earnestly accepts her swift exit. That is, until she uses the bathroom and realises her menstrual disc has become stuck inside her, and she needs Carey’s help – cue the bloody carnage.
The short takes a simple idea and flips it into an overly intimate nightmare, shattering preconceptions about the modern ideology of disconnected hookup culture. Despite Alex and Carey sharing perhaps the most intimate form of human contact the night before, there is a numbness associated with sex that renders the trapped disc a much more horrifying level of intimacy over the… deed. Is penetrating someone’s insides really that much different when it hinges on the selected body part used?
Written by star Ratermanis along with Rice, it sheds light on a lesser-known tool used as a tampon surrogate. At least lesser known to a dumb man like me or Carey, who is baffled at the escalation situation – “Do you want me to call the front desk?” This is elevated by appropriately intense close-ups and Ratermanis’s committed and wince-inducing performance. Kevin Garrett’s effective score also pierces the ears like a flatline high-frequency static that only the under forties can hear.
Despite chaotic similarities to recent films like If I’d Had Legs I’d Kick You, there is an ultimately sweet core and lesson around connection in the most unexpected places. DISC manages to fit (and remove) an awful lot into its fourteen-minute runtime, serving as an excellent calling card for Rice.
Follow Us