“The judges [of the Oregon Short Film Festival] specifically mentioned how the video transports you to a different time and place. It really evokes that feeling of longing and memory. It sticks with you long after it’s over.”
“It’s a love letter to this forgotten artist. A testament to the power of music, and memory.”
“The Girl Who Faded Away” is a mesmerizing music video that takes viewers on a poignant journey through the depths of longing and the fleeting nature of love. Set against the backdrop of enchanting woods and mystical encounters, this visually stunning piece of art captivates both the eyes and the heart.
The narrative unfolds as a lone man embarks on a quest with an air of mystery, clutching an old wooden case as he navigates the edge of a dense forest. The scene is set with the sudden appearance of a majestic white owl, which transforms into a spectral female figure—the titular “Girl.” From this moment, an ethereal dance between reality and illusion begins.
What ensues is a series of enchanting sequences where the man and the Girl engage in a delicate dance of pursuit and evasion, set to the crackling tunes of an old vinyl record. As the man chases after her through the corridors of an exotic estate, the Girl remains just out of reach, her presence a tantalizing mirage that slips away with each step closer.
The cinematography in “The Girl Who Faded Away” is undeniably its crowning jewel, weaving together lush landscapes with dreamlike imagery to create a visually arresting experience. Each frame is meticulously crafted, evoking a sense of wonder and melancholy that mirrors the theme of unattainable love.
One of the music video’s greatest strengths lies in its originality, offering a refreshing departure from conventional narratives. The pacing is well-executed, allowing moments of quiet introspection to coexist harmoniously with bursts of kinetic energy.
In conclusion, “The Girl Who Faded Away” is a hauntingly beautiful exploration of love’s transient nature, brought to life through stunning visuals and a captivating narrative.”
Might it be the pursuance or the involuntary yet somehow present evasion of loving companionship that often drives us into a place of personal upheaval and discontent? Our desire to be near someone else, to share in a mutually experienced depth of love and acceptance, is a driving force we possess as human beings, though even after possibly having finally gained it, why does it seem that it can be SO hard to truly HOLD onto it, much less FIND it again? A solitary man (Eric Schopmeyer) wanders into the woods, an old record-player case in hand, clear intent initially unknown. But, even as his plan is revealed, the warnings about what he seeks and the outcome it might bring rear up in front of him. Undeterred, his journey involving a spectral woman (Theresa Hanson) ensues–but to what conclusion?
Next, my Mind:
I have to begin by stating that, at least for this critic, there’s still remains a definitive separation between what one would consider an actual music video vs. a short film that happens to FEATURE music as its primary narrative focal element paired with accompanying imagery. So when it comes to this 6-minute indie effort from director Brent Heise and executive producer George W. Daly, I am fully classifying it as the latter of those two arenas, even in spite of seeing several instances where the project IS being received, awarded, and construed AS the former. What stands out for me though, regardless of which way other viewers might choose to interpret it, is that the medium of short film continues to embody the unique stylings, artistic paths, and grander creative flow that independent filmmakers endeavor to bring about in order to rise above typical mainstream fare and offer a showcasing of the raw passion and bold drive to take what has been done before and make it fresh. I’ve said this a lot over the years, but honestly, it simply remains a true declaration of artists not being hesitant in just AIMING to be more original in SOME fashion at least.
With this film we’re given a narrative centered on a lone man venturing into the woods and the subsequent journey he takes with a ghostly woman he appears to be pursuing but always just missing all while immersed in the strains of a 1960’s song that carries the film’s namesake which very purposefully heralds back to those older days while the film likewise carries that same tone and feel, at times even to the extent of scattered black & white, mildly shadow-filled, noir-esque leanings and atmosphere. An aura of sheer nostalgia (or perhaps just purely fantastical, imaginative, in-one’s-own-mind conjecture) is experienced due to this format, a time jump that transports you to that yesteryear arena, as we’re briskly whisked away by a tale of longing, loneliness, love’s hopes and hurts, the elusiveness of what we strive for, and the dangers of opening one’s heart to it all when no absolutes or guarantees we will GAIN that which we yearn and seek after exist.
Additionally, and again with a distinct combo of portraits from past and present, the film delves into thematic explorations like the risks we take and/or the lengths we will go to to experience connection, to embrace what we desire or want for, the fleeting nature of beauty, how we can becomes caged and held captive by our emotions, asking whether we CAN actually find contentment when alone, holding to a positive outlook towards the future as such, and tirelessly chasing what remains seemingly forever just out of reach or unobtainable, and the acceptance of this which can be either cathartic or heartbreaking for all involved. It’s really a narrative that maintains an air of desperation and sadness, yet not to the measure of being some exercise in hopelessness or depression, but rather just a picture of the reality that solitude and absence of having a counterpart in life can elicit, much less what is left behind when that pursuit of it ceases. There is a tangible power in the utilization of only visuals and music here, driving events shown home with intentionality and emotive force, and I love when a film can successfully accomplish this sans dialogue.
In writing about similar executions as is demonstrated here narrative and visual-wise, I’ve always been impressed when actors can winningly depict all the necessary levels of emotional engagement with their character and the given story via body language and facial expression primarily (or here, exclusively) and do so with enough effectiveness to keep our attention to what’s unfolding in front of our eyes. I first feel that Schopmeyer displays this exact technique to the apropos extent that IS needed for his character portrayed, known simply as “Man”, a somewhat lost soul who is taking time to discover the depths of his current personal isolation via a trip into the forest to sort out what he’s feeling. As he does, there are initial signs that appear through the form of an owl (which then morphs into the main female apparition) that could spell a warning not to venture farther into his quest. But, as he chooses to continue, it then turns into the point of no return in facing what he so deeply wants, but cannot actually possess, having to come to terms with where in life he is and acknowledge it to hopefully encounter inward peace.
It’s a study in subtlety, understated but still filled with enough palpable resonance to allow us as the viewer to understand the Man’s plight, and Schopmeyer does a very adept job at manifesting these highs and lows of the Man’s adventures throughout. Then we have a truly ethereal presence that serves as both cautionary omen and catalyst for individual revelation and awareness for the Man, which is made real by the gorgeous Hanson as the Apparition, a phantom of alluring yet haunting manner who becomes the target of the Man’s ongoing attempts to capture the love and companionship he’s eager to acquire but yet consistently remains one step ahead of him at all times, an evasive entity that is both playful but somehow deceptive as well, as if knowing what the Man wishes to achieve for his life, sympathizing with him, yet also showing that sometimes, as another classic old song advises, you can’t always get what you want. I very much adored just how impactful Hanson makes the Apparition, an otherworldly siren who might just ultimately have its own sense of loss when the tale comes to a close.
It’s again an exhibition of muted intensity and purpose in how Hanson imbues the Apparition with relatable qualities as well as ones that would say “go no further”. Plus, the actress’ ability to embody an image of flirtatious infatuation as well as untouchable passion is admirably accomplished here through her performance. And so, in total, “The Girl Who Faded Away” is a lesson in seclusion, detachment, and unanswered need for love coupled with the drive, determination, and dogged endeavors to see it become part of our life again if at all possible. Even when this may NOT end up as a goal achieved, we can also be taught that this ISN’T the end of ourselves or our happiness, as it still might be coming to us in a form different than what we would anticipate, taking a little more time to be clearly seen, but worth it when it does arrive.
As always, this is all for your consideration and comment. Until next time, thank you for reading!”
“Imaginative! It’s like a little Industrial Symphony n°X.”
— Milano, Italy Indie Movie Awards
“The Girl Who Faded Away,” a music video helmed by Brent Heise, and produced and Co-wriiten by George Daly presents a spellbinding narrative steeped in mysticism and longing. Against the backdrop of dense woodlands and an enigmatic estate, the tale unfolds with haunting elegance as a man embarks on a quest for love, guided by the spectral presence of a captivating apparition.
The storyline progresses with lyrical finesse as the protagonist engages in a delicate dance with the elusive Girl, only to witness her ethereal form slip away, leaving him to traverse a desolate path into the unknown. The director’s meticulous attention to detail and mastery of ambiance imbue the visuals with a dreamlike quality that ensnares viewers from the outset.
Complementing the visual feast is the evocative musical score composed by Eric Schopmeyer, which serves as a poignant accompaniment to the unfolding narrative, amplifying the emotional resonance of each scene. The judicious use of light, meticulously chosen locations, and a rich palette of colors further elevate the viewing experience, enveloping the audience in a world of enchantment and intrigue.
While the video exhibits remarkable craftsmanship across various fronts, occasional technical hiccups such as digital zoom and stabilization quirks may momentarily detract from the immersion. Nevertheless, these minor blemishes pale in comparison to the overall ingenuity and artistry demonstrated by the director and his team.
In summation, “The Girl Who Faded Away” stands as a testament to the unwavering passion and dedication of its creators, who have woven a tapestry of visual poetry that resonates deeply with audiences. It’s a music video that transcends mere entertainment, leaving an indelible mark on the hearts and minds of those who behold its mesmerizing beauty.”
“I had never heard the song “The Girl Who Faded Away,” but Brent Heise’s music video – after a brief interlude in a mysterious wood, with a mysterious woman (Theresa Hanson) and a man (Eric Schopmeyer) with a mysterious box – instantly transported me to the 60s in some completely unexpected ways.
• Musically, obviously, although that wasn’t obvious immediately as I’d never heard the song, by (Executive Producer George Daly’s original band) The Hangmen, from 1965, before. • Audibly, with vinyl-evoking hisses, pops and clipping that I hadn’t experienced since my first Compact Disc player in the late 1980s. • And haberdasher-ly, with Schopmeyer’s prominent trilby and smart suit.
“Well, I had a dream last night,” the song begins. “… and you seemed ever so near…”
Hanson embodies the dream, with impossible movement and ghostly demeanor. Schopmeyer pursues her through a mansion but she remains out of reach.
You’ll never come back to me, I guess. But my dreams keep telling me lies.
Searching from room to room, he catches glimpses but never gets closer.
My love for you is so real. But you’ll never know the way that I feel.
When they finally touch, he’s jolted back into the “real” world of the woods. He wills himself back to the mansion. He finds her and they dance – but it can’t last.
Well, the night is day and you’re the girl who faded away.
Everything about this production is impeccable – the visual effects range from subtle to jarring but always fit the tone and mood. The sound, as I mentioned, is hauntingly evocative. (Although, given the digital age we live in, I initially thought there was something wrong with my speakers when I heard the pseudo-analog music.) The editing is in lock step with the music, as one would hope for a music video, letting The Hangmen drive the narrative. And it is gorgeously lit, both in real sun and digital God-rays, with Heise and DOP Bill Ward unafraid to let shadows grab the attention from time to time.
As happy as I was to be entertained by the visuals, I have to legitimately thank Heise for introducing me to this enchanting song.”
“The Girl Who Faded Away was one of the Official Selections from the Portland Festival of Cinema, Animation & Technology’s 2024 festival that accepted the Filmmaker Mixer Podcast offer to review their work. It is a live action short film that adapts the lyrics to a song of the same name into film. It perfectly conveys the emotions that the lyrics intended to evoke through its visual language. The choice of location was amazing; the forest and the mansion and the green bathroom are all just stunning. I really liked the costume choices for the girl, such as how she wore all white to look pure and out of this world, and how special effects were used at times to make it appear as though she was glowing. The white shawl she wore around her body that flowed in the air as she ran was a particularly effective choice in my opinion, as it furthers that feeling of her constantly fading away and coming back again by bringing her a flighty quality.”
— Madelyn, Filmmaker Mixer Correspondent, Filmmaker Mixer Review for Portland Festival of Cinema, Animation and Technology