Ross Syner On Keeping It Simple for a Big Emotional Payoff in ‘Brothers’

A red hat emits a stunning glow throughout Ross Syner’s ode to familial dedication. Even though we fight with our families or can disagree with them greatly, you always come through whenever they need it most. You can tell the holidays are right around the corner, can’t you? In Syner’s slyly devastating short film, Brothers, bonds are tested but duty comes through.

Syner’s film centers on two brothers who arrive at their grandfather’s home with a shocking confession. To make a film as simply plotted like Brothers is more difficult than one could imagine. When the setup isn’t bogged down by complicated details, you can focus on the story, but you also have nowhere to hide. Syner’s dedication to that simplicity comes through in an effective manner.

“Keeping it simple is what me and Lou Murrall, the DP, wanted to do from the beginning. We wanted simple framing and movements–everything. With a fantastic cast at my disposal, I wanted to make sure that every moment and frame meant something without cherry-coating the drama in any way with over-the-top camera movements. Even the lighting is simple, but there are no crazy reverses or setups. I wanted it to be more about putting those three characters in a confined space to let them get the story across without getting distracted.”

David Bradley’s Nigel is still mourning the loss of his wife, and you can see that in the film’s atmosphere. We have all heard stories about how a widower doesn’t know how to operate in certain realms of their own home because their wives held such a place there. The kitchen feels especially foreign to a man like Nigel.

“I wanted it to be dark to reflect the narrative with the hallway being a little lighter,” he says. “The picture of his wife is out in the hallway, so that makes sense. The kitchen is actually in my house. My wife, Leanne [Dunne], co-wrote the film with me, and we bought this doer-upper and I told her that she couldn’t decorate the kitchen. Much to her distress, we were leaving the kitchen like that until we got the film made. Everything in that room is outdated, almost like when he lost his wife. Time almost stopped for him. He’s living off of microwave meals, and he’s dealing with that loss. Everything needed to feel bleak, a bit lost, and messy.”

Bradley is such an accomplished performer, and Syner couldn’t believe that he was the star of his film. So many of us recognize him from the Harry Potter films or Edgar Wright’s films or even Guillermo del Toro’s newest Frankenstein adaptation. Syner was ecstatic to work with him, but he felt the pressure.

“First of all, what a gentleman and talent he is,” Syner says, warmly. “He told me that he loved the writing, and he had some time away when he was filming Frankenstein. The excitement and buzz of him joining our film was very exciting for everyone involved. From the get-go, he knew everything about the script, everything about his character and his backstory. You sometimes wonder if you will have people turn up and they’re winging it onthe day because they view it as a small fry project. Not David.”

With working with Jack Christou and James Eeles, as brother Harry and Kyle, you sense their bond. You can give your sibling a look or glance and they will know what you are saying or trying to communicate. Brothers‘ narrative creeps out bit by bit, and all of the characters’ backstories are baked into the performances.

“A lot of siblings have that love-hate thing,” he says. “If shit hits the fan, though, you’re going to be there for them, no matter what. I spoke to James Eeles, who plays Kyle, about how we weren’t alluding too much about his character’s past too much in the film, but when they talk about prison, he tells his brother that he wouldn’t last long. I feel so blessed with this cast. Everybody brought this understanding and knowledge from day one. We did a bit of rehearsals and worked on some of the dynamics. We wanted to embed quite a lot of silence.”

In the film’s climactic moments, Bradley’s Nigel makes his way to the front door. You feel pride as he looks at the picture of his late wife and you can almost feel what they meant to each other. We never see anyone enter this house, but we can see someone lurking just right outside.

“We did want to start and end the film with exactly the same frame, so we did film those back-to-back,” he says. “We did have an entire alternate ending where he opened the door and there were two policemen. Leanne and I talked about it and we thought it would be better if we use the one with a single light coming through. We had to use the moment of him speaking to his late wife, because that’s what, ultimately, the film rests on. We had to see this granddad feeling like he was doing right by his family.”