Vilnius review: Ootid (2024)

Kino Pavasaris
Short Film Competition

Courtesy of Cannes Film Festival ©Eglė Razumaitė

A deep silence opens Eglė Razumaitė’s sixth short, OOtid, which had its world premiere in the Short Film Competition of the 77th Cannes Film Festival last year. Even the chirping of birds is reduced to a barely audible hum, a hint at intention and not a technical mishap. Two minutes into the story, it is finally there—the isolated sound of human voices. A question, an answer, and the first face we can take a look at from a close. Smilte’s appearance (Smiltė Einingė) opens and closes this liminal and unequivocally suggestive coming-of-age film, letting us eavesdrop on a group of teenagers trying to figure out what happened to their friend.

The unsaid and unseen steer the story in this minimalist yet wonderfully accomplished drama, set in a summer camp near a lake hidden behind a thick wall of pine trees and greenery. And as if that beauty weren’t spellbinding enough, there is the magic of photography. In this analogue eye candy shot by cinematographer Nojus Drasutis, the positioning of bodies before the lens so that they block each other from full exposure is particularly interesting as part of the being-inside-of-the-group experience while watching the film. You have a nonsensical urge to tip-toe over their shoulders to see more and hear better. The feeling of authenticity also comes from the great performances delivered by the young cast.

In a summer camp for girls, there isn’t much to do other than swim in the nearby lake and talk about anything that passes as eventful. Four boys are mentioned in a tittle-tattle on the hostel’s veranda, but the girls show no interest in deepening the conversation about potential flirts. Vilte’s sudden departure from the camp is an occurrence that occupies everyone’s mind. Again, Razumaite wants the audience to feel the group’s pulse, to let it paint its own picture about what happened to the girl that wasn’t even seen on screen. Bits and bobs are thrown our direction, but nothing of significance. We are amidst the proper teenage exchange of thoughts, left to ponder with them, and even peek above their shoulders to see better. Was Vilte possessed?, wonders one of the girls whose face is plastered to her cell phone. Allegedly, there was an attempt at summoning demons, or so she heard. The other suggests that she might have run away with her boyfriend. The third denies both theories. The mood is gloomy, and the cloudy weather doesn’t help to improve it.

Something new reverses the order of priorities, shattering the status quo and opening the door to a completely different story while simultaneously ending the film. This, in itself, proves Eglė Razumaitė’s strength as a scriptwriter and director.

Ootid currently screens at Kino Pavasaris in Vilnius, where it is presented to the domestic audience.

Courtesy of Cannes Film Festival ©Eglė Razumaitė

Original Title: Oodité
Country: Lithuania, France
Language: Lithuanian
Genre: drama
Year: 2024
Runtime: 10′
Written & Directed by: Eglė Razumaitė
Production companiy: Plopsas

Co-Production Company: Videoformes
Producer: Lineta Lasiauskaitė
Co-Producer: Gabriel V. Soucheyre
Cinematography: Nojus Drasutis
Composer: Thomas Franz Seber
Sound Design: Auske Jurevičiûté
Cast: Smiltė Einingė, Auksė Bružaitė, Liepa Paliulytė, Ema Venckutė, Emilija Sabaliauskaitė

Distributor: Varicoloured