Okay, tapeheads, gather 'round the flickering glow of the metaphorical CRT. Tonight, we're digging out a true gem from the National Film Board of Canada's treasure chest, a short that likely popped up unexpectedly before a feature presentation on some well-worn rental tape or maybe caught your eye during a late-night animation showcase. I'm talking about Richard Condie's utterly unique, hilarious, and strangely profound 1985 masterpiece, The Big Snit. Forget blockbuster explosions for a moment; this 10-minute hand-drawn marvel delivers a different kind of impact, one that lodges itself in your brain like a particularly catchy, slightly weird tune.
### When Scrabble Goes Nuclear
Remember that feeling when a minor domestic disagreement somehow spirals completely out of control? The Big Snit takes that universal experience and dials it up to, well, global apocalypse levels. We're dropped into the cozy, slightly schlumpy living room of a middle-aged couple. He wants to watch his favourite TV show, "Sawing for Teens" (yes, really). She’s fixated on their Scrabble game, specifically his annoying habit of shaking his eyes back and forth when contemplating a move. This seemingly tiny irritation sparks the titular "snit," an escalating argument fueled by petty grievances and stubbornness, perfectly voiced with weary familiarity by Jay Brazeau and Ida Osler.
What makes The Big Snit brilliant, and utterly bonkers, is that while this domestic cold war rages, the television in the background calmly reports the outbreak of global nuclear war. The absurdity is pitch-perfect. The couple is so wrapped up in their personal conflict – his compulsive sawing, her vacuuming fury, the cat’s escalating anxiety attacks – that they remain blissfully, terrifyingly unaware of the world ending just outside their window.
### That Wobbly, Wonderful NFB Style
Let's talk about the look of this thing. This isn't slick Disney animation, folks. This is pure Richard Condie and the glorious, slightly unhinged aesthetic often fostered by the NFB. The lines are loose, expressive, almost vibrating with nervous energy. Characters stretch and squash in impossible ways, their bodies reacting physically to their emotional states. Remember the husband’s eyes literally shaking in their sockets? That wasn't just a gag; it was the visual manifestation of irritation, rendered with a charmingly lo-fi, hand-drawn immediacy that feels worlds away from today’s pixel-perfect digital animation.
This visual style is the practical effect here. Every frame was drawn by hand, imbued with the artist's personality. There’s a warmth and a tangible quality to it, a slight imperfection that makes it feel incredibly human, even amidst the cartoonish chaos. It’s a style that perfectly complements the film's blend of mundane frustration and existential dread. Condie, who also gave us quirky shorts like Getting Started (1979), had a knack for finding the extraordinary in the ordinary, and the anxiety in the everyday. The Big Snit is arguably his defining work, earning an Academy Award nomination for Best Animated Short Film – a testament to its unique power even back then.
### Deeper Than a Bad Word Score
Sure, it’s funny. The visual gags, the dialogue ("Stop shaking your eyes!" "I can't help it!"), the sheer escalating madness of the situation are brilliantly comedic. I distinctly remember seeing this years ago, probably sandwiched between other NFB shorts on TVOntario late at night, and just being bewildered and delighted by its strangeness. But beneath the surface laughs, The Big Snit hits surprisingly deep notes.
It’s a poignant commentary on communication breakdown, how easily we can become consumed by our own small worlds and petty arguments, missing the bigger picture entirely. In the face of annihilation, what truly matters? The film suggests, with unexpected sweetness, that it's connection, forgiveness, and maybe one last dance (or round of sawing) with the person you love. The ending (Spoiler Alert! though for a 10-min short, the journey is the point) offers a bizarrely uplifting vision of the afterlife, suggesting peace can be found even after the ultimate catastrophe. It's a message delivered with such quirky charm that it avoids feeling preachy, landing instead as a strangely comforting thought.
### The Verdict
The Big Snit is a masterclass in animated storytelling, packing more wit, invention, and emotional resonance into its ten minutes than many features manage in two hours. It perfectly captures a specific flavour of 80s independent animation – fearless, funny, and unafraid to be deeply weird. Its themes of anxiety, miscommunication, and finding solace in absurdity feel perhaps even more relevant today. It's a reminder of a time when animation felt handmade, personal, and capable of tackling profound ideas with a light, wobbly touch.
Rating: 9/10 – Deducting a point only because its extreme brevity might leave some wanting more, but what's here is near-perfect animated alchemy.
Final Thought: Forget smooth CGI; sometimes the most potent animation is the kind that shakes, rattles, and rolls right along with its delightfully neurotic characters, leaving you chuckling and maybe, just maybe, feeling a little bit seen. A true VHS-era treasure worth rediscovering.