Is everything we do truly initiated by love? ‘Before the Winter’, directed by Juan Zuloaga Eslait, dares to sit with this question without offering easy answers. In just 15 minutes, this melancholic short film leaves you contemplating the quiet sacrifices that often go unnoticed, and how sometimes, the most painful choices are the ones rooted deepest in love.

The film tells the story of May, a middle school girl who captures the harshness of her reality in her diary. Through her innocent yet piercing entries, we learn of her mother’s desperate attempts to save their sick cat, an act that slowly reveals the darker struggles unfolding at home. But when her diary falls into the hands of a concerned yet overly inquisitive teacher, the delicate privacy of May’s world is under threat of being exposed.

‘Before the Winter’ opens with a brooding shot. May is seated at her classroom desk, writing in her diary. One of her male colleagues is interested in what she might be writing and tries to steal the book away from her. A brief scuffle happens, and he gets hit in the nose accidentally by the book. A teacher confiscates her diary and eventually starts to read through the entries. The audience is also drawn into the raw world May inhabits, a world far heavier than any child should have to bear.

At home, May is grappling with more than just a dying pet. Her mother is working several night shifts to raise money to save for the home. May is aware of this and how it is affecting her mother. In a gut-wrenching moment, May, in her innocence and desperation, suggests dropping out of school to help earn money. Her mother’s response, “Don’t ever say that again,” is one of the film’s most profound moments, capturing a mother’s fierce, self-sacrificing love. It’s a small sentence, but it carries the entire weight of a woman fighting to shield her daughter from a world she is being consumed by.

As the story unfolds, May realises the truth about her mother’s sacrifices. She is not just selling her time and energy, she is selling her dignity. And she comes to understand that to truly save her mother, she may need to break her heart. This feels like the greatest tragedy. That sometimes love demands not just giving, but hurting, too.

The film’s pacing is deliberately gentle, allowing every sigh, every silence, and every glance to sink in deeply. May becomes more than just a little girl facing hardship. She becomes a symbol of silent, selfless and innocent love. Her coping mechanism is how she chooses to record her reality versus how she experiences it in Hee diary. This captures a child’s attempt to make sense of the harsh world she lives in. The narrative later reveals exactly what she is dealing with, and this makes May’s situation more riveting.

Young actress Venice Wong is remarkable in her delivery as May. Every scene, every frame, you see her wearing both the weight of her situation as well as her choice to make things better for her mum. Her innocence is evident, but so is her confusion about what is right and what is necessary is heartbreakingly real.

Visually, Before the Winter embraces a cold, almost stoic palette that mirrors the emotional frost settling into May’s life. The muted tones never feel oppressive, though they give the story breathing room, allowing even the smallest emotions to shine through the cracks.

This is a short film that you will want to watch again after the first watch. And when you do, you will find yourself noticing new layers in its tender narrative. It reminds us that sometimes the bravest acts of love are the ones that hurt the most.

Rating: 4/5 stars