All right everybody, it's time to talk about that bane of all short filmmakers and the ultimate cliche: the twist ending. Sure, sometimes a nice "Twilight Zone" shocker can be fun, but more often these last minute surprises are clumsy, insulting, or worse. (It was all a dream! Also, they are ghosts! DREAM GHOSTS!) It's the rare film that uses its characters and plot to build organically to a moment that actually reveals something. And that's what we have today.

"Oil Change" is Todd Luoto's night-in-the-life look at two couples headed in different directions. It's the sort of film that people either love or hate. The deciding factor is how much you enjoy being made to feel truly uncomfortable. With a savagely effective script and fine performances, Luoto's film is a tremendously frank look at a side of ourselves that few like to acknowledge, let alone explore.

I've been loving the continuing critical discussion about "cultural vegetables" that in the New York Times over the past few weeks. "Oil Change" isn't mushy peas or sour brussel sprouts that you force down because you have to, it's the type of story that is essential for a balanced diet of film. Take the time to see why.

(Full disclosure: Todd is a fellow shorts programmer over at the Sundance Film Festival.)

Editors Note: The short film below, while not graphic, deals with issues of sexual assault.

The Bay Citizen: Where did this story come from? Was it informed by personal experience?

Todd Luoto: "Oil Change" was like my written eulogy to my twenties…a culmination of stories, some personal, some I created from friends, strangers, and exes, that was supposed to be my Dear John letter to dating culture now that I had finally "found love." This, of course, was an oversight (the love was fleeting, who would have seen that coming), and perhaps a remarkably stupid idea when I look back at its original conceit…but I guess at the time I wanted to essentially make a horror story about companionship, and put a spotlight on characters too selfish and too shallow to ever take such a union seriously.The "twist" at the end was NOT informed by personal experience, nor do I know anyone that would so offensive in a real life setting.  

When it comes to insecurities though, I do share many similarities with the character of Kole: I’m not a big confidence guy, have a bit of a chip on my shoulder, and am far from a master in both fashion and mechanics. However, Kole is, in many respects, the complete opposite of the shell I would ever prefer to live in, and my intent was for him to realize his odiousness by coming to a breaking point. Unfortunately though, his "liberating" speech—real or not—(it’s supposed to be ambiguous)—leaves him in a far worse situation: a moment to self-reflect on the fact that he has just made himself the biggest pile of poop in the hot tub.

TBC: There are some incredible performances in this film. Was it difficult communicating with the actors, especially given the subject matter?

TL: There are some incredible performances in this film. Was it difficult communicating with the actors, especially given the subject matter?The actors (Pat Healy, Michelle Lawrence, Devon Ahmed and Corey Brill) were all great to work with, and the film would have been far inferior without their talents.  

I had Pat and Corey in mind when I wrote the script, and I was lucky to get  Michelle and Devon to respond to my casting call and show up on a Saturday to knock it  out of the park. Each one seemed to get the script’s mix of humor and drama and clearly understood we weren’t making fun of anyone (and any group) except for the type of self-serving and emotionally malicious characters that would be found at a similar dinner party.The ending was tricky, and one in which Pat and I rehearsed and talked about a lot.  

It’s where the humor is supposed to end and there’s a clear shift in tonality to an extremely dark place. No punchline ever comes, leaving the audience to realize the film is actually without any type of real protagonist. My intention was to make the speech ambiguous (did he or didn’t he?), but also let the final moment not really justify his actions either way. A deeply disturbed person would actually do something so horrific in real life, but what about someone who makes that same claim purely for the sake of hurting someone else?  

At the end of the day, is he—or the dog eat dog culture he represents—really any better? 

TBC: How do you think you experience as a shorts programmer informs your filmmaking?

TL: I think programming has given me a better idea of what works—and more importantly, what doesn’t—in terms of storytelling. I’m way more critical of my work now, which I’m not sure is a completely great thing, but it at least keeps me from being lazy with my own writing. Programming has created a positive opportunity to learn, be inspired and be made humble when you see tons of talent and literally thousands of films each year…and I couldn’t have asked for a better education, been moved by greater minds, or worked with smarter people whose opinions and insights I value very much.