A glimpse of the future, finite but full
This year’s Gobelins graduation animated shorts are all moving looks at what's next.
by Rollin Bishop, Kambole Campbell, and Toussaint Egan
I love this time of year, but not just because of the seasonal changes or Halloween — though, not not because of those things. I also love this time of year due to the annual tradition of Gobelins Paris sharing its graduate shorts, which usually begins in October and runs for a couple of months with a new short released every week. Regulars likely know most of this already given our look back this month at some of the best of what Gobelins has previously produced.
But why? What is it about the Gobelins graduation shorts that move me so? That makes me want to explicitly highlight them like this, that makes my re:frame collaborators agree wholeheartedly? They're creatively singular, so drawing a throughline between all of them over the years is daunting, but here is my conclusion: it is always like staring directly into the future.
Each short is a glimpse of a possible future. Finite, perhaps, in that only about a dozen graduation shorts are produced and shared each year like this, but bursting at the seams with art of all kinds. Music! Color! Design! Composition! All of it, literally all of it, is swelling with potential, and even if these creators — and there are so many — do nothing else, they have done this. The kids are all right, and that includes everyone responsible for the following 2025 Gobelins shorts that we'd like to highlight.
NICCOLO
It's hard not to get swept up in the drama of Niccolo, a short written and directed by the team of Clémentine Di Prizio, David Florian, Axelle Granet, Sirui Lius, Hugo Michalet, and Njolai Pachomius. Inspired by the life of virtuoso violinist Niccolò Paganini, we follow the prodigal musician from their childhood to adulthood. It's a rich text told almost entirely silently but for the music from Mathieu Vilbert, a mixture of original composition and a piece from Paganini himself, "La Campanella."
Paganini's life story has been dramatized in live-action film and on stage before, so the team of Niccolo lean into symbolism rather than pure biography. The violinist is drawn ever forward in the chase for something like mainstream success – a golden spiral stairway to heaven. At the top things look more bleak: foreboding gothic spires to match the character's extravagant but somewhat vampiric costume and unnaturally pale features (Catsuka compares the character design to the work of illustrator Yoshitaka Amano). But there's no turning back; the stairs behind them crumble, and all that's left is to continue along the path, quite literally drawn as a thing to be consumed by the wealthy, eventually left in destitution. That journey is characterized by gorgeous design work – elegant characters rendered in sketchy linework which betrays the tenuousness of the violinist's social position in the courts and later a franticness to escape. The background art is reminiscent of romantic period painting, the lighting gradually morphing into something more foreboding still. A stunning piece of work, one that shows both a romantic and worldly view towards the landscape for artists, how passion can give way to co-option and commodification. – Kambole
HON. MENTION: Tumbleweed
A lovely, wanderlust-tinged adventure about the barista Hurle, which folds in a number of reference points. A little bit of One Piece in the design of the biomechanical gadgets, a little bit of Castle in the Sky in its final reveal, a little bit of Moebius in the landscape and shading style.
The Famous Last Show
Don't let the perfect be the enemy of the good. Nowhere among this year's crop of Gobelins graduation shorts is this sentiment better exemplified than in The Famous Last Show. Written and directed by Celia Alcina Matesanz, Fuxuan Deng, Pontheera Nimmanakiat, Ané Quintana, and Hongru Su, the short follows the cast of an autobiographical stage play (titled "The Famous Last Show") produced by Bruce, an overbearing theatre director who is determined to create a lasting legacy before his pre-determined demise. That is, if his cast can pay attention long enough to get their lines and stage directions right. Bruce's unkind demeanor and dismissive attitude rankles Charles, his assistant, who promptly quits in protest as Bruce is left to pick up the scattered pages of his script.
The Famous Last Show is all about letting go of the idea of perfection, as the erratic and whimsical behavior of the play's cast eventually coalesces into a whimsical and dazzling spectacle of creative chaos, complete with a jazzy piano number, a high-speed jetski chase, a brilliant flute solo, and a madcap dash up a flight of floating musical notes. The short doesn't so much as break the fourth wall as do away with it entirely, eventually transporting Bruce into a lovingly illustrated drawing by his youngest cast member that ultimately culminates with his apology and reconciliation with his creative partner. It's like a wild, Birdman-inspired, animated absurdist play that takes a detour into ChalkZone territory before drifting back down to Earth. – Toussaint
HON. MENTION: NICCOLO
Holy cow, this short is brilliant. The dark color palette, the dramatic staging, the intricately detailed backgrounds. Not to mention the music; My God, the music! Niccolo is nothing short of a masterpiece. Bravo, maestros. Bravo.
Chére Fin
An archipelago postman grapples with his coming retirement in the beautiful, flowing graduation short Chére Fin, written and directed by Khéma Cousin, Lien Franckel, Laora Le Boursicot, Alissende Masson, Joséphine Mounier, and Clément Saden. There is a natural fluidity to both the designs and animation, pushing the concept of the sea and waves into every aspect of the short in a way that ties everything together — some letters are shaped like fish, some deliveries are to shells, and there are essentially no straight lines present when a wavy one might suffice.
There is no grand narrative at play here as the postman makes his final round of deliveries, with Chére Fin opting instead for vignettes exploring the postman’s unique relationships with each residence and the people that dwell within. What a privilege it is to be a postman, he muses. There's a dreamlike, watercolor lens to nearly everything, dousing the short from beginning to end with an almost magical reality. It feels real and cohesive, but washed out and fuzzy in its coloring and physics while crisp in its direction and pace. There is no time to linger, even if the postman might want to, and crashing waves put an end to his route and bike while turning a final chapter — literally and figuratively — in his career.
There is joy in the before, but there is also joy in the after. Life goes on, and so do we, and Chére Fin knows it. – Rollin