On Sunday night - February 17, that is - tens of thousands crammed into Sydney’s Domain and other locations around Australia for the sixteenth annual Tropfest short film festival, the largest production of its kind in the world.

As usual, cask wine and picnic rugs were the order of the day at the Domain as many whiled away the entire afternoon under a threateningly grey but mostly dry cloud canopy.

The films kicked off at about 8pm after red carpet entrances, including those of Naomi Watts and Bryan Brown (not so spontaneously crashed and broadcast on giant screens by two of The Chaser lads), and an impressively long naming bout of corporate sponsors by Adam Spencer, including every possible manifestation of the Sony empire.

The films, as usual, were Tropfest’s signature mix of quirky, Aussie humour, touching realism, high production value and genuinely entertaining if fairly conventional fare.

The first prize was awarded to Michelle Lehman for Marry Me, a love story of sorts starring two young children. The film, while definitely cute, saves itself from a potentially simplistic emotional reading with the final shot; a stunning bicycle stunt turns the tables and manages to redeem a story of potentially gender-defined doting to one of self respect and an emotional learning process.

Lehman’s prize includes a car, generous lashings of cash and vouchers, but most importantly, all manner of foot-in-the-door industry opportunities both here and in the U.S. Fitting for someone whose initial interest in film came from a desire to win an Oscar.

At a close second was Uncle Jonny by Mark Constable, a simple and humorous narrative driven comedy with a feel-good finish.

A very well produced documentary about a group of shark fisherman, Great White Hunters by director Gary Doust, came in at third place.

This year saw the first incarnation of Trop Jr., a short film competition for Australia's younger, emerging talent. Sixteen year old Guy Verge Wallace won first prize for his film Poor Joshua Verde, a clay animation that tells of “the saddest boy in the world”. Wallace took home $500, a handycam, the promise of a one-day film industry tour, a course on sound design and a visit to a film set.

Simultaneously, Squatfest, now in its eighth year and hosted at a secret warehouse location in Sydney, provided an underground alternative to its corporate big brother. It proved to be an interesting off-shoot for young filmmakers and enthusiasts working decidedly closer to the fringe.

The films at this year's Squatfest were incredibly varied, from Burroughs-esque radio cut up experimentalism, to cinema verité style documentary productions. No Jameson whiskey tent here but plenty of cheap beer, a small, friendly crowd and an impressive warehouse space boasting the possibility of future events.

The grassroots event was well received by its modest patronage and the winner, democratically decided upon by the decimal level of vocal appreciation, was a highly amusing documentary DJ Dazz. The film depicts a wedding disc-jockey cutting his industry teeth with a difficult crowd at a Hobart reception party.

Photo Courtesy of Creative Commons