Clermont-Ferrand ISFF Review: DISC (2025)

Clermont-Ferrand International Short Film Festival
International Competition

Film still from Blake Rice’s short “DISC” (2025)

Blake Rice’s Tea – which vied for the Short Film Palm d’Or at Cannes in 2024 – initially seemed the kind of ‘meet cute’ film which is littered throughout modern cinema, both feature and short. But on closer examination, the film was a clever play on genre clichés that both confirmed and subverted expectations whilst also finding a fine balance between comedy and drama. His latest short DISC – which premiered in Toronto and now finds itself as part of the International Competition at the 2026 edition of Clermont-Ferrand – contains this some pitch perfect blend of comedy and drama that is not only a compelling character study but also a repudiation of gender expectations as defined by the mainstream media.

***Please note, spoilers follow***

Alex (Victoria Ratermanis, who also wrote the film alongside Rice) wakes up in a motel room – the slight air of haze and her look of slightly pained recall suggest a drunken hookup. Indeed, it soon turns out that she and Carey (Jim Cummings), in the midst of a corporate conference, have taken networking a little bit further than exchanging business cards.

The slight confusion and awkwardness are soon ramped up when Alex discovers that something has become stuck within an intimate area and, unable to reach it herself, needs Carey’s help. What ensues will remind us that intimacy can take many forms and mean many different things.

Starting with all the genre conventions of a ‘hookup’ story, Rice slowly starts to twist our expectations. At one point, Carey finds himself looking out of a window, staring at a motel employee. They lock eyes, and these two employees share an uncomfortable moment of connection that is unintended and unwanted, and that adds an ever-so-slightly surreal tone to the proceedings.

By the time Alex has called Carey for help, the film plays with us more. Carrey’s ensuing help for Alex is filmed in the motel bathroom as if it were a Hollywood sex scene – all fast cutting, implied nudity, moaning and sweaty holding on to bathroom appliances. Knowing the true situation renders the scene, in and of itself, very funny. But it’s also highly satirical and subversive, confronting us with how much mainstream media both informs an idea of sexuality that is often idealised and sanitised, but also one in which bodily functions – especially female ones – are made non-existent. At one point, Carrey has menstrual blood on his forehead. It wouldn’t be unthinkable that, if this were a mainstream movie, this would cause an R rating and much consternation amongst a certain tranche of commentators. But if that was blood that was splashed by gunning down a raft of evildoers, we’d be in PG13 territory and completely fine as long as no one said ‘fuck’ more than twice.

It would have been easy to make Carrey an idiotic man-child, disgusted by what he’s having to do. But the film cleverly makes him more sweet and earnest than that, genuinely trying to do the right thing whilst suffering the failings of a society that deems that men learning basic facts about female reproductive organs is not needed (despite the fact that there are still a few men who think it’s their right to define what women do with their bodies). A speech – in a gentle comedic tour de force by Cummings – made to a housekeeper is a hilarious mix of earnestness, bluff and bluster, and Cummings is great in general. But Ratermanis is also brilliant. While she seems to have less to do than Carrey’s general flitting about (which also seems a sly comment on the roles of women in films), her command and controlled panic hold the film together.

The very end of the film – we’re talking about the opening lines of the closing credits song – also reveals more about what we’ve just seen. The uncharitable may see it as overegging the pudding, but the film’s balance of genuine pathos, satire, drama and comedy means the film earns it.

DISC is a wonderful use of the short form, showing Rice’s bold creativity, featuring some fine performances, and, as a bonus, laying bare some of the hypocrisy behind how intimacy is constructed in fiction and the gaps that exist between real life.


Year: 2025
Runtime: 14’
Country: USA
Language: English
Directed by: Blake Rice
Written by: Victoria Ratermanis, Blake Rice
Cast: Victoria Ratermanis, Jim Cummings
Cinematography by: Nyk Allen
Editing by: Mike O’Brien
Produced by: Victoria Ratermanis. Robert Ravenscroft, Blake Rice
Production companies: Pan Up Productions