The Guitarist: Speaking Without Words Between Image and Music

Michael Rogan’s 10-minute drama The Guitarist follows an afternoon of profound change in the life of the eponymous, washed up guitarist who, by the looks of it, had given up on any more possibilities. 

Grumpy and reclusive, his (Ryan Link as Charlie Winters) plans of doing the least and brooding the most is interrupted when a teenager (Liam, played by Eli Hannon) drops in, unannounced. It foretells events to come that Liam is not, in fact, unannounced. The boy booked himself a class online; he has the receipt and everything. 

During the class, which does not get off to a promising start, the mood is tense and it would be worse had the plot had more time to breathe. But the narrative must maintain its onward march, and so off we go from shot to shot and feeling to feeling at a brisk pace. The colour grading (credit to Chris Wu, whose work on a music video we have recently reviewed) gives the film an aura of stifled life—the afternoon light is a little too golden, the hint of haze a little too pronounced—and it is as if Liam has come to visit a ghost. It pairs very nicely with the establishing shot of the house. Shot in ultra-wide, the distorted outlines of the house and its leafless skeleton of a tree produce a feeling of grotesque loneliness. As a result, the images strikingly achieve what the plot is compelled to forsake. 

When the plot turns up a very old photo—at least 16 years old—it breathes new life into Charlie. As he sets it in a prize position amid his cassettes and four-track recorder, he appears ready to dive into activity again. For the brief few seconds, the film look nudges less towards deadness and more towards the substance of love and authenticity. 

Liam might just learn something new in the next class. 

Watch Guitarist Short Film Trailer