A Quirk of Fate, the curiously clumsy title of Marco J. Reidl's " 45 minute "short," led me to think that the German language film's message might be lost in translation.

To my delight, a cinephile's propensity towards schadenfreude was kept at bay. The film is exactly what it claims to be: a quirky twist of fate, or rather, fate-th-ful, homage to a hodgepodge of the emotionally gripping, sentimentally-fueled, and visually sumptuous films of the classic Hollywood studio system. Even the filmmaker's production company "MJM," is a direct nod to the leading lion of classic film studios, MGM.

Specifically, this film is an homage to the films made by European – and specifically the German-language - filmmakers who worked for the Hollywood studio system as a result of talent poaching across Europe at the dawn of the Second World War.

The film's plot and themes can be read as generous nods to the "Americana" films and filmmakers of the 1930s-1950s:

• the everyman moxie and family drama of Sicilian-born Frank Capra's It's a Wonderful Life (1946) and You Can't Take it with You (1938)

• the spirit-sprinkled films of Henry Koster's The Bishop's Wife (1947) and hare-brained Harvey (1950)

• the two-sides-of-the-human-coin character sketches of the Austro-Hungarian born Billy Wilder's Double Indemnity (1944) and Some Like it Hot (1959)

• the technicolor dream coat and palpable melodrama not seen since the mid century melodrama of Douglas Sirk (All That Heaven Allows (1955) and Written on the Wind (1956).

It's as if Reidl's own miracle was to effectively convey the proverbial MGM “stamp of excellence” in delivering an audience visual beauty and emotional storytelling. Well good news, MJM: you have succeeded!

Reidl's film is also steeped in folkloric pathos, and unfolds at a weathered but graceful pace, like a neo-realist Gift of the Magi.

And yet, there is something unique and refreshing about the film.

Yes, there is the intertextuality of the film clips within the film. Yes, it's a holiday film that could easily fall into peace on earth purgatory, but to this viewer, it stands on its own.

It's clear that something terrible is going to happen...or will something wonderful happen instead? In this snow dappled holiday film, it's more of a “wonderful-terrible life,” because that's how life really is.

To Reidl's astute credit, the results are neither depressing or overly sentimental.

I attribute this to the film's deep undertones of influence by two strains of classic German cinema: Wiemar cinema and German Expressionism. The conventions of Weimar - melodramas steeped in working class struggle to obtain a noble living and to survive life's hardships - and of German Expressionism - suppression of inner pain and turmoil struggling to burst from beneath a visibly stoic, shaky aesthetic. It's in the eyes, while the face remains still, a mask over the raw emotions lurking beneath.

Reidl masterfully captures this through the use of deep focus and close ups, similar techniques employed by classic American narrative cinema of the studio era. This attention to detail gives the film a polished, Orson Welles/Greg Toland level of quality cinematography a la Citizen Kane (1941) and The Magnificent Embersons (1942), and Victor Fleming command of intimate drama with external fantasy and fanfare of Wizard of Oz (1939) and Gone with the Wind (1939) command of intimate drama with external fantasy and the harsh drama of life.

Despite its influences, the film stands strong on its own, especially for a short format. While the title did not please me, it certainly coerced me into trusting the unknown film, filmmaker, and the vision of its director (and the influence of his team of spiritual godfathers Capra, Sirk, Koster, and Wilder).

A film of this modest stature and grandiose depth presents an ideal opportunity for modern Hollywood cinema to take note - Scorsese's Hugo excluded! - to give those of us in the audience something to believe in, swoon over, and secure, above all, a heartfelt story.

~ Ms. Duncan Pittman