Plot rarely tells the story. The bare bones of Emma Calder’s The Queen's Monastery are easily related. Woman in black remembers her acrobat husband before he returned from war a broken man. The six minute film has an inspiring soundtrack from Czech composer Leoš Janáček whose Sinfonietta triggered Emma’s film. The music was itself inspired by a military band, the texture of the piece translated quite brilliantly by the director, from cart wheeling acrobat to marching soldiers. If the music is inspiring so is the technique. Emma uses watercolour in an extravagant, lush application as in the close-ups of the lovers embracing, the girl tweaking the military moustache in comical fashion; at other moments the brush strokes are mere dabs or lines, almost stick men as the troupe of acrobats form their tableaux or the woman’s lover dances in front of her voluminous dress. The film hints at emotion or events, the woman turning away from her dark room towards the sea, an image intermingled with the billowing curtains, whilst the impassioned wartime scenes has soldier fighting soldier, a battle that continues on the domestic front as embracing lovers are interrupted in a ravishingly depicted fight scene. Remorse, guilt, loneliness and fantasy are elements explored in an at times richly coloured and always symbolic romance that I am surprised is not better known. It was the first animated film to receive money from the UK's National Lottery. The enigmatic title puzzled me: a tragic Queen landlocked in a dark monastery. Leoš was a choirboy and later director at the Augustinian Queen's Monastery in Old Brno, Moravia.