A live-action short of the same name was released in 2003 starring Gord Downie. Technically, it’s done well, but the format is all wrong—the images give too much away and the power behind Purdy’s words are lost. Watch one, then the other—you’ll see what I mean.

On the topic of visuals, lets not forget the superb animation done here by Bruce Alcock. I love his choice of a collage-style animation that combines painting, stop-motion, typography, etc. Every object adds greater depth to Al’s words like the “sensitive” gun and axe we see with the timing synced to his rhythm of speech. At The Quinte Hotel is truly one of the best marriages of image and word. Often conflicting, but always harmonizing.

Try this on for a deeper message: the way one sees oneself and the way one is perceived by others are often two very different views. But a certain harmony comes from it. This is true not only in our main character but also in the value of the things we call beautiful. In his usual brazen style, Al makes this very clear near the end—”A poem will not really buy you beer, or flowers, or a goddam thing.” Al Purdy, never a rich man, was cynically commenting on the world of poetry—ever important, yet unnecessary—the harmony of his discordant universe.

All writers know the block, the periods of inactivity when the creative process simply dries up. Budapest, a city poet Billy has never visited, is the title of Julian Grey’s response to the challenge of Sundance. A hand clutching an old fashioned pen—the sort with a sharp nib that needs to be dipped into an ink pot—is seen like some disembodied beast with a mind of its own. With the camera low, cast in a blue hue, it scribbles in desultory fashion, page after page, the passage of time denoted by a change of arm from green sweater to plaid shirt,. The pen also acquires a mind of its own, requiring a little firm handling. Overlaid animations complement the live action and stop motion as insects crawl from the nib, a bird drinks from the puddled ink. In a nice touch during the close, we see the blue momentarily change to sunset yellow as, through a window, golden Budapest appears to be reflected in the now 3D puddle of ink, a distraction and relief both.

Billy Collins is a tad more accessible, not to say enjoyable, than some Poet Laureates from some other countries I might mention. He reads his own poems with a weary assurance that suits his subjects to perfection. Canadian animator Julian Grey has contributed two other poems, of which Forgetfulness is a moving response to waning powers. He and partner Steve Angel founded the award winning Toronto-based Head Gear in 1997.

Should you delve further and wish a pick-me-up, do view Today from the remarkable Californian studio, Little Fluffy Clouds or, in a different mood entirely, No Time from New York’s very distinctive Jeff Scher.

“If her web be art, then she is an artist of symmetry who walks on air…”

The simple, child-like illustration style draws much from Bourgeois’ spindly sculptures. The Spider won a 356: AIGA (American Institute of Graphic Artists) Award for motion graphics this year (where I found it online), so it speaks well to my design-conscious side. The motion is well-choreographed, moving and morphing in time and breaking dimensional boundaries at key moments to create a visual style who’s perceived simplicity is broken by a deep and textural world teeming just beneath the surface.

“And if it is true that the great themes are death and love, then surely she is preoccupied with greatness.”

The filmmaker, Juan Delcan (Nola Pictures), has said he’s interested in expanding this idea to other contemporary poems—perhaps enough for a feature.

Evidently Tropfest NY started in 2006 via a partnership with the Tribeca Film Fest and this was its second year as a stand-alone event. Not too long ago I extolled the virtues of the original Australian itineration when I reviewed Marry Me the winning film from this year’s event, so I was excited to check out what I had missed with TropFest NY. I hopped online to watch some entries, thinking I could stockpile some worthy films to add to the review queue.

Or that was the idea at least. I made the mistake of watching the festival winner, Mankind Is No Island, and half-finished review or not, I knew it had to be this week’s entry. Simply put, no film has moved me half as much in a long time.

Mankind Is No Island is 3min30 long. Go watch it now, because a conventional description does not do it justice. Nor does trying to pigeon-hole the film for that matter. It is an interesting conglomeration of genre types, and few of those types really are film-related at all. In relying on the written word to tell its story, it is more properly a poem, though surface comparisons to all those typographical exercises one sees on Youtube can be made. Certainly the arrangement of the title-cards betrays someone with a design background, yet really almost the entire film is composed of near-static shot compositions. Is that not fine art photography? If we ignore technique in favor of intention, perhaps it is best thought of as a documentary for social change.

Trying to intellectually grasp the film is ultimately a pointless exercise in the face of the awesome power of experiencing it emotionally. It is devastating. I am not faint-hearted, my girlfriend will attest to that, but the film invariably summons a tear every time I view it. Part of this of course is the subject—homelessness is undoubtedly a tragedy—yet it truly is the construction of the film that most elicits these tears, starting with the score. John Roy provides it and it is spare and melancholy and beautiful. So are the images, all of them taken by cell-phone. The backlighting of “Hope” is gorgeous, the shadow falling across the last “Me” poignant, the child and mother street sign, heartbreaking. And let’s not forget the poetry of the message itself. If it was clumsy, preachy or overbearing, the film would be easily sunk. Thankfully that is not the case, and all these factors interplay in what is a powerful piece of filmmaking.

Jason Van Genderen is the toast of New York right now. Congratulations, it is well-deserved. Mankind is No Island is a triumph. A bunch of famous people made short films starring New York for New York, I Love You which premiered this month, and this one will be better than all of them.