Michael, who uses a wheelchair on the ground, finds freedom in surfing

Michael is disabled and uses a wheelchair to go about his daily life in California. But it’s on the ocean atop his custom surfboard that he feels most free and lucid – a sensation he describes as his ‘birthright’. Sean Mullens’s modest yet moving film chronicles his friend Michael as he goes about his everyday surfing ritual, and explores the essential human desire to transcend limitations.

What does school look and sound like when you and your classmates are deaf?

The California School for the Deaf (CSD) is a free school in Fremont and Riverside for deaf and hard-of-hearing students between the ages of three and 21. In A View from the Window, the US director Chris Filippone and the Iranian director Azar Kafaei observe a third-grade class at the school’s Fremont location. Taking a fly-on-the-wall approach, the directors capture the children as they fuss over the crayfish in the classroom fish tank, speak with a guest about his experience as a deaf black man, and hit the playground for recess. Through their immersive filmmaking, a vivid bilingual world emerges – one that, in many ways, is very much similar to a traditional elementary-school classroom. This touching short has been a film-festival favourite in 2018, appearing at the Palm Springs International Shortfest and the Big Sky Documentary Film Festival, among others.

From eruption to obliteration – the sights and sounds of 48 fateful hours in Pompeii

Before the eruption of Mount Vesuvius on 24 August 79 CE, Pompeii was a thriving Roman port city and commercial hub near modern-day Naples, and home to an estimated 15,000 people. Closer to the mountain’s base and on the other side, the nearby town of Herculaneum, estimated population 5,000, was smaller, wealthier and a popular resort for elite Romans. After the eruption, both remained buried, their memories lost to time, until they were excavated and identified in the 18th century. In the years since, the continuing excavation of their eerily preserved buildings, artifacts and human remains have given archeologists and researchers an invaluable window into ancient Roman life.

The only firsthand account of the eruption comes from the author and lawyer Pliny the Younger. In his correspondence with the historian Tacitus, Pliny describes helplessly watching from nearby Misenum as the tragedy unfolds: 

Some wishing to die, from the very fear of dying; some lifting their hands to the gods; but the greater part convinced that there were now no gods at all, and that the final endless night of which we have heard had come upon the world. 

This animation, produced in 2009 for an exhibition at the Melbourne Museum, brings his harrowing words to stark and vivid life. Transporting viewers back to the morning of the eruption, the video recreates sights and sounds from that fateful day through to the following night, at which point both Pompeii and Herculaneum already lay buried deep in volcanic ash and debris.

Far from sluggish: the remarkable sea creature that weaponises its dinner

Nudibranchs, also commonly known as sea slugs, are a group of snail-like sea invertebrates. Despite appearing more or less defenceless, nudibranchs broadcast their whereabouts with their flamboyant, brightly coloured bodies. From an evolutionary standpoint, it might seem like a curious move, but their luminous skin actually serves as a warning to would-be predators to let them know they’d make for a dangerous meal. While some nudibranchs accumulate toxins and other defensive chemicals in their bodies, others – like the star of this film – have an even craftier method of warding off enemies. This remarkable short from the science and nature documentary series Deep Look details the clever way that some nudibranchs protect themselves by stealing defences from stinging sea animals known as hydroids. You can read more about this video at KQED Science.

‘My God! Where’s the human voice?’ A charming reflection on our pre-recorded world

From to Siri to subways to customer service calls, pre-recorded and robotic voices are becoming an increasingly inescapable part of the human experience. In this short animation from StoryCorps, the US author, historian and broadcaster Studs Terkel (1912–2008) reflects on this trend away from human interaction and toward disembodied sentence fragments. Recalling a scene from a tram ride at Atlanta airport with exceeding wit and charm, he considers the richness of the human voice, and what we lose when it’s replaced.