The short film, “Sirenomelia”, directed and performed by Emilija Skarnulyte, reminded me of our previous explorations as a class of Hans Christian Anderson’s “The Little Mermaid”; though, a much more modern and solemn take. The mermaid’s curiosity to explore a decommissioned NATO base mirrors that of The Little Mermaid’s to assimilate into the human mainland, however, Sirenomelia’s mermaid explores a human construction devoid of our presence, full of bizarre metal structures—their obscurity highlighted by the twisting camera lenses and close-up shots distorting their view. Her conceptualization of human activity is one of aggression and uncertainty, as her contact with human life in this instance is through only the remnants of a military site. The depictions of the base, followed by images of surrounding melting ice structures and seaweed marred by murky water paints a fitting, unattractive image of human life through the eyes of the mermaid. Where The Little Mermaid seeks to be one with humanity, I can imagine Sirenomelia wishes to avoid it at all costs. The film allows us to take a close look at ourselves and the impression we leave on the environment around us through the perspective of a half human creature, a monster, whose emotions we can relate to—as her appearance resembles a piece of ourselves. Watching Sirenomelia explore, we experience the impact of our own presence and empathize with the dread and confusion she must feel. We feel shame for the ugly things we abandon for her to find—if the site was decommissioned, why couldn’t we have deconstructed it too? Why did we leave it there to impose on the environment around it for decades to come, long after its use ran its course?

If we knew Sirenomelia would be visiting, would we have cleaned up after ourselves? Most likely, no. Maybe that is the reason she only visits once we’ve gone.