Tord & Tord

Tord found that he could not get into his apartment. "The key would not fit in the lock." He found the door ajar, inside "everything was back to front". Inside Tord meets... Tord.

Based on a novel by Jorun Jonasson, adapted into a short film by Niki Lindroth Von Bahr, narrated by Thomas Tidholm, soundtracked by Erkki-Sven Tr, this is not the draw.

It is animated. Stop-motion, in fact. Tord has the head of a fox. Tord has the head of a hare. You could laugh, indeed, there are jokes of a sort - let us call them amusements. This is not falling over and giggling - this is in part an unmaking, uncertain, uncomfortable.

Let us be clear - that Tord has the head of a fox and Tord has the head of a hare does not mean that Tord and Tord are animals. No, Tord is a fox like Blacksad is a cat and Art Spiegelman is a Maus. Shortcuts to personality, indicative of difference. Tord and Tord and chord and discord.

The Berlin Philharmonic Quartet contributes, but it's the model work that makes it. The IKEA bag, the LIDL bag, that's one thing - that atrocious wall covering that appears to be bark? That is harder to do. The miniature techniques on display are stunning. Steam from a kettle is string, not cotton wool, a quick dance over the spout. Static seeming shots of doors, with post - Tord and Tord communicate, you see - as neighbours in name and space the mail sometimes gets confused. With the redirected letters, post. As the notes pass, code - T.K.T. - Tord, Coffee? As time passes, the code becomes more sophisticated, subtle. As the code develops, so too the opportunities for miscommunication. Tord and Tord are not so much the same.

The film is brilliant. Not unique in intent, let us not make that mistake, but moving, affecting, at once subdued and inviting. One could bandy around words like existential or meditative, but fairer to say laconic, subtle, striking, and, most importantly, magical.