Hide (Short Film) Review: A Tense Short Film Leaving You Wanting More

By Justin D Williams

Brenden Hubbard’s Hide is one of those HollyShorts selections that immediately made me wish there was more of it. The film takes a relatively simple premise and builds an entire sense of history and danger around it without overexplaining what is happening. It is tense when it needs to be, surprisingly emotional underneath the horror, and by the time the credits rolled I was already thinking about how easily this concept could expand into a full length movie or television series. At the center of Hide is the relationship between a father and his daughter, played by Alejandro Rose Garcia and Ionie Olivia Nieves. Their performances are a major reason the film works. Their relationship feels lived in, particularly because the movie does not need lengthy exposition to convince us that these two have been surviving together for some time. There is affection between them, but there is also exhaustion and fear underneath their interactions. That emotional foundation makes the danger surrounding them feel more important because I actually cared about what happened to these characters. Hubbard also does an excellent job visually establishing two very different moods.

Some of the quieter daytime material has a muted, almost ordinary appearance. One shot of the daughter sitting at the dining table uses a wide composition that allows the room around her to become part of the image. She is surrounded by familiar objects and an everyday domestic setting, but the amount of empty space in the frame gives the scene an underlying loneliness. It looks peaceful on the surface while still feeling slightly uncomfortable, which fits the film extremely well. Once the film moves into its darker moments, the lighting changes dramatically. Deep blue lighting takes over the frame, turning familiar spaces into something much colder and more threatening. Hubbard frequently moves much closer to the characters during these sequences as well. Tight close ups of the father and daughter isolate their faces against the darkness, sometimes allowing portions of their features to disappear into shadow. Those shots make the environment feel increasingly claustrophobic, as though the characters’ world is shrinking around them. I especially liked the profile shots during these blue lit sequences. Rather than constantly showing us what the characters are looking at, the camera stays close to their reactions. That choice keeps our attention on their fear while forcing us to imagine what might be beyond the frame. It works hand in hand with the film’s refusal to show too much of its threat. The cinematography understands that sometimes what is missing from an image can be just as important as what is visible. That same philosophy carries over to the sound design, which is one of my favorite elements of Hide.

The film creates much of its suspense through what we hear rather than what we see. Sounds outside the characters’ immediate surroundings make the danger feel constantly present, and because Hubbard does not rush to reveal everything, your imagination starts doing some of the work. Combined with those tight shots and low blue lighting, the sound creates some genuinely effective tension. If I have one complaint about Hide, it is actually one of the biggest compliments I can give it: I wanted it to be longer. There are enough questions surrounding this world, its threat, the rules these characters follow, and what happened before we met them that I wanted to keep exploring. The concept feels tailor made for expansion. A feature could dig deeper into what created this situation, while a limited series could explore how different people survive within the same world. As a short film, however, Hide accomplishes a lot without overstaying its welcome. Strong performances give the story its emotional center, Hubbard’s direction knows when to hold information back, the cinematography shifts beautifully between quiet domestic isolation and cold nighttime terror, and the sound design makes the unseen feel genuinely dangerous. Most importantly, it left me wanting to see what happens next.