IGNORE THE NOISE

There’s an art to playing dead. Shakespearean actors spend their entire careers perfecting the way they crumble in slow motion, clutching at invisible wounds, gasping out their final words like some tragic poet laureate. But for Gary—our bedraggled, sleep-deprived, possibly delusional protagonist—his task is much simpler: lie down, shut up, and be convincingly asleep. Unfortunately, even that proves a Herculean feat in "Ignore The Noise," a blistering, darkly hilarious dissection of the actor’s eternal struggle against the forces of pretentious direction, professional rejection, and, of course, imaginary insects.

Kyle Jon Shephard’s seven-minute dark comedy/horror short is a masterclass in escalating absurdity. What starts as a straightforward audition quickly spirals into chaos, with Gary (played with glorious, vein-popping frustration by Henry Perryment) finding himself locked in mortal combat with both his own barely contained rage and a supposed “killer bee.” Now, as any sane Brit knows, the UK doesn’t do killer bees. Our most dangerous wildlife is a disgruntled badger on a rainy day. But Gary? He’s convinced this thing is out to assassinate the entire room, and by God, he’s not going to let that happen on his watch.

The film’s genius lies in its rhythm—tight, merciless, and utterly relentless. The comedy lands like a drunken boxer, swinging wildly but hitting with perfect precision. The dialogue is sharp, dripping with deliciously self-unaware arrogance, and peppered with a level of self-justification that would make even the most deluded actors' union rep blush. Gary's insistence that he was “protecting their lives” as he smacks, slaps, and ultimately hospitalises multiple people is a thing of comic beauty. By the time we reach the pièce de résistance—his agent (delivered with weary brilliance) reminding him that the UK doesn’t have killer bees—there’s a poetic inevitability to Gary’s downfall that almost feels Shakespearean. If, of course, Shakespeare wrote Fawlty Towers-esque nightmares about unhinged actors committing career suicide in broad daylight.

Visually, "Ignore The Noise" is stunning. The sterile, clinical whiteness of the audition room only amplifies Gary’s descent into madness, making his flailing chaos even funnier. The editing is razor-sharp, particularly in the way it contrasts Gary’s frenzied outbursts with the utterly mundane reality of the situation. The way Shephard intercuts shots of the supposed “bee” with Gary himself lunging at the casting director is comedic gold—because, really, what’s the difference between an irritating buzzing insect and an actor on the verge of a nervous breakdown?

Sound design is another unsung hero here. The buzz of the bee (real or not) is crisp and omnipresent, an auditory manifestation of Gary’s crumbling grip on reality. Every slap, every crash, every agonising pause before the next inevitable disaster is executed with near-musical timing.

And, of course, we have to talk about Henry Perryment. His performance as Gary is a marvel—balancing exhaustion, indignation, and outright lunacy with a level of commitment that is, frankly, terrifying. He embodies the kind of actor who could recite Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star with the intensity of King Lear’s final monologue. His ability to turn even the simplest line into a philosophical battle cry is nothing short of brilliant.

At its core, "Ignore The Noise" is more than just a comedy about an actor having a meltdown. It’s a wicked satire of the industry itself—of the relentless need to please, the absurdity of direction that contradicts logic, and the delicate balance between artistic integrity and sheer, unfiltered madness. It’s about the pressures of performance, the thin line between dedication and delusion, and the tragic fate of a man who simply wanted to sleep but ended up punching his way into cinematic history.

A hilarious, tightly-wound, darkly absurd gem—Kyle Jon Shephard has crafted a short film that doesn’t just ignore the noise, it revels in it.