From her Sun Valley upbringing, Maria (Carlie Quesada) loves to tell stories. No surprise that she wants to go to New York to make a life of her passion. But what does she really want in writer/director Joe Quesada’s FLY? It’s a little hard to tell, because she loves to tell stories. And that’s the fun in this uplifting and pleasingly uncertain little 17-minute short.
Nonetheless, we begin with a stunning backdrop that seems to have no end. Panning the green luscious mountains, the pervading sunlight warms the soul and provides introduction to Maria’s creative inspiration. “I love to tell stories. Ever since I could remember. It’s like I have no choice. This place, it’s filled with them. You just have to know where to look.”
An easy guitar riff accompanying the voiceover, Quesada’s delivery makes the assertion an easy sell. Then the built-in contradictions begin. Any Sun Valley resident worth their salt should never want to leave, according to the main character. But Maria’s got her sights set on the New York Academy of Writing.
No need to figure it out for the moment, she stays present with her Dad (Scott Irvine). A Hokey banter for sure, we don’t care because love comes across in the benign sarcasm. Beautifully played by Quesada and Irvine, there’s a sweet remembrance for those who no longer have their father and an appreciative acknowledgment for everyone else who is lucky enough to currently live the bond.
No mom in sight, though, Irvine also gives us a dad who is doing everything he can to make up for the maternal shortfall in Maria’s life. In turn, the amore follows suit between big sister and little sister Sofie (Kenley Bozzuto). Replacing dad in the interaction, Maria becomes parent, and Quesada plays mommy with a joyful mix of concerned motherhood and adolescent silliness. In receipt, Bozzuto is so cute in her appearance and portrayal that the viewer wants to hug her and never let go.
Another wonderful pairing that makes you forget that sibling rivalry is a thing, the noninvasive taunts at each other have no chance of being mistaken for anything but affection. So the home life completely established, the bucolic setting that Director of Photography Benjamin Garst continues to heap upon us, reinforces the main storyline: Why would anyone ever leave?
Now the presentation is officially at odds, and the cinematography plays as a real character. As a result, the more the imagery draws you in, the more it drives the drama of Maria’s struggle.
Here for the moment, Maria has another passion. She’s a figure skater, and to the sound of an Indie tune called, Biggest Fan, there doesn’t seem to be a downside. Not quite, Maria has trouble sticking her landings, but it’s the fly aspect of the sport that complicates matters.
Another contradiction is revealed, we then find out why writing and flight are at the center of Maria’s life. Pretty straightforward by comparison, when the forces of gravity applied to her every move, we are pulled in even further by Maria’s conflict.
There’s also an old cooking timer that Maria carries everywhere and seems at hand whenever her notebook is accessible. On the clock maybe, a resolution is obviously needed. No problem, Maria likes to tell stories, and when she’s done revealing the ambiguities, you may never come down.
